A 

COLLECTION  OF 

POEMS, 


AMERICAN   AFFAIRS,     AND     A     VARIETY    OF     OTHER     SUBJECTS, 
CHIEFLY    MORAL    AND    POLITICAL  } 

WRITTEN   BETWEEN   THE  YEAR    1797    AND   THE   PRE 
SENT    TIME. 


BY  PHILIP  FRENEAU, 

Author  of  Poems  written  during  the  Rewtytipnary 
War, 


Then  England  come  !  —  a  sense  of  wrong  requires 
To  meet  with  thirteen  stars  your  thousand  fires  : 
Through  these  stern  times  the  conflict  to  maintain, 
Or  drown  them,  with  your  commerce,  in  the  main. 


VOL    I. 


NEW-YORK: 

PUBLISHED   BY   DAVID   LONGWORTH, 

At  the  Dramatic  Repository, 
Shakspeare-Gallery* 

1815, 


' 

I  tt 


Jk 


DISTRICT  OP  NEW-YORK,  SS. 

Be  it  remembered,  that  on  the  seventh  day  of  March,  in  the 
thirty  ninth  year  of  the  Independence  of  the  United  States  of  A- 
merica,  David  Longworth  of  the  said  district,  hath  deposited  in 
this  office  the  title  of  a  Book,  the  right  whereof  he  claims  as  pro 
prietor,  in  the  words  following,  to  wit : 


A  collection  of  Poems,  on  amtrican.  offidrs,  and  a  variety  of  other 
subjects, ,cf>.iejly  moral  onti  political  ±  written  between  the  year 
1797  and  the  present  time.  ##  Phffip  Freneau,  author  of  Po 
ems  written  during  the  revolutionary  war,  miscellanies,  SfS.  In 
ftvovpfamqs,  ,  .  . 

Tlien  England  come  ?-*-&  -sense*  of  wrong  requires 
To  meet  with  thirteen  stars  your  thousand  fires 
Through  these  stern  times  the  conflict  to  maintain, 
Or  drown  them,  with  your  commerce,  in  the  main. 


In  conformity  to  the  Act  of  the  Congress  of  the  United  States, 
entitled  "  an  Act  for  the  encouragement  of  Learning,  by  securing 
the  copies  of  Maps,  Charts,  and  Books  to  the  authors  and  propri-* 
etors  of  such  copies,  during  the  times  therein  mentioned."  And 
nlso  to  an  Act  entitled  "  an  Act,  supplementary  to  an  Act,  enti 
tled  an  Act  for  the  encouragement  of  Learning,  by  securing  the 
copies  of  Maps,  Charts,  and  Books,  to  the  authors  and  proprietors 
of  such  copies,  during  the  times  therein  mentioned,  and  extending 
the  benefits  thereof  to  the  arts  of  designing,  engraving  and  etch 
ing  historical  and  other  prints. 

THERON  RUDD,  Clerk  of  the  New-York  District. 


N.  Van  Riper,  Printer,  corner  Greenwich  and  Vesey-streets. 


ABVERTfSlMENT. 

*Fhe  poetical  pieces  contained  in  these  volumes  were  eeaipesfcg 
at  different  periods,  and  on  a  variety  of  -occasions,  between  the 
years  1797  and  1815,  and  are  now  presented  to  the  public, 
printed  from  the  author's  original,  and  corrected  manuscripts, 
and,  it  is  hoped,  in  such  a  style  of  typography,  as  will  not  be  un 
acceptable  to  the  reader  — Several  of  the  performances,  com 
prised  in  this  collection,  and  chiefly  those  on  political  subjects,  and 
other  events  of  the  times,  have  heretofore  appeared  in  several 
periodical  publications  of  this  and  other  STATES  of  the  union. 
It  is  presumed,  however,  that  the  poem?  of  this  description  will 
not  be  the  less  acceptable  to  the  friends  of  the  muses,  now  they 
are  collected  in  these  volumes ;  with  the  advantage  of  having 
at  one  view  what  were  before  scattered  in  those  bulky  vehicles 
of  information,  whose  principal  object  can  be  little  more  than  to 
record  the  common  events  and  business  of  the  day,  and  goon  de 
scend  into  comparative  oblivion. — Whatever  may  be  the  fate 
of  the  work,  they  are  respectfully  offered  to  the  world,  in 
hopes  it  may  obtain  a  share  of  their  attention,  and  particularly, 
from  .the  friends  of  poetical  composition  ;  and  in  a  country  where 
it  may  be  expected,  the  fine  arts  in  general  will,  with  the  re 
turn  of  peace,  find  that  share  of  encouragement,  which  they  seem 
entitled  to  demand,  in  every  nation  that  makes  any  pretensions 
to  refinement  and  civilization. — It  is  only  necessary  to  add.  that 
care  has  been  taken  te  «wc*te  the  typographical  p^rt  as  correctfa 
as  possible-. 


M17GG7G 


THE  FOLLOWING  LINES 


Addressed  to  Vie  author,  were  sent  to  the  publisher  of  these  Volumes , 
by  a  lady,  mho  had  read  them  in  manuscript,  together  mitit 
Poems,  #c.  formerly  written  during  the  Revolutionary  n?«r, 
and  published  in  Philadelphia,  in  1809. 

Deign  to  accept  the  humble  fays 
Your  charming  book  inspired  : 
I  send  you  nought  but  heart-self  praise, 
I  read  and  I  admired. — 

In  colors  bright  you  have  pourtray'd 
Each  dear  domestic  scene 
Where  oft  in  happiest  days  I've  stray'd, 
A  stranger  then  to  pain. — 

And  though  to  wander  I've  been  doomM 
Par  from  that  much  loved  place, 
With  joy,  its  image  I've  resumed, 
And  all  its  beauties,  newly  bloomed, 
Pleased,  in  thy  page,  I  trace. 

And  oft  beneath  its  shades  I've  woo'd  like  thee, 

The  sweet  enchantress  poetry. 

In  lonely  groves  have  sought  her  soothing  power 

When  sorrows  deep  have  wrung  my  aching  breast, 

And  sought  her  in  the  fragrant  bower 

When  joy,  with  dimpled  smiles  my  face  has  drest. 

Yet,   though  for  me  she  many  an  hour  beguiled, 
•nthee»she,  more  propitious,  Enriled, 


LINES,  &C.  v 

Around  thy  favor'd  brow  her  hand  has  twined 

A  sweetly  variegated  wreathe 

Of  every  blooming  flower  combined, 

Perfumed  with  every  sweet  the  odorous  spring  doth  breathe. 

Whether  with  merry  step  and  sprightly  strain 

You  ramble  o'er  the  rural  plain, 

And  bring  with  cherry  cheeks  and  russet  gown 

The  blooming  country  girl  to  town  ; 

Or,  pensive,  seek  the  solemn  shade 

Where  some  lost  friend  in  silence  sleeps, 

And  as  the  soothing  tribute's  paid 

Thy  heart  oppress'd  with  sad  remembrance  weeps. 

Still,  as  thy  sportive  fancy  roves 

O'er  smiling  plains,  through  shady  groves, 

Now  pleased  the  glowing  landscape  to  design 

And  now  the  elegiac  garland  to  entwine, 

Still  do  we  mark  the  true  poetic  fire, 

And  listen  with  delight,  when  Thyrsis  strikes  the  lyre. 

And,  may  you  thus  the  generous  task  pursue, 
Your  theme  is  still  anhackney'd— still  is  new  : 
For  you,  shall  fame  a  lasting  wreathe  prepare, 
Who  from  oblivion  would  your  country  save, 
And  tell  the  world  Columbia's  sons  are  brave, 

HER  DAUGHTERS    GOOD  AS  FAIR  ! 

CAROLINE, 

'New-  Rochelle 


CONTENTS 

OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME. 


Page. 
Reflections  on  the  gradual  progress  of  nations  from  democrat  - 

ical  states  to  despotic  empires  .  .  >3 

To  the  rev.  Samuel  Stanhope  Smith  on  the  conflagration  of 

Nassau  Hall,  in  New-Jersey 
The  m>w  -Age,  or  truth  triumphant 
On  the  death  of  Catharine  the  second 
On  arriving  in  Souih  Carolina,  1798 
To  the  memory  of  Edward  Rutledgevesq. 
On  superstition  .... 

The  royal  apprentice ;  a  London  story 
The  Millennium — to  a  ranting  field  orator 
On  the  Federal  city  (Washington)  1797 
The  nautical  rendezvous  :  written  at  Guadaloupe  in  1800 
The  royal  cockneys  in  America,  1797 
Ode  to  the  Americans,  1798 
The  modern  Jehu,  or  nobility  on  four  wheels 
Jhe  political  rival  suitors 
Prefatory  lines  to  a  periodical  publication 
On  a  deceased  lady,  that  had  been  both  deaf  and  blind 
On  the  projected  war  with  the  republic  of  France 
The  mistake ;  a  modern  short  story 
On  the  morality  of  commerce 
Lines  written  in  a  french  nove} 

Human  frailty  .... 

The  heroine  of  the  revolution 
On  happiness  resulting  from  virtue  . 

On  the  abuse  of  human  ,->ower  * 

To  a  night  fly,  approaching  a  candle 


GPKXfiKTS   OS   VOL.    ».  yft 

Co  the  departure  of  Peter  Porcupine  .  ,  76 

Ode  to  good  fortune  .  79 

On  a  celebrated  performer  on  the  violin  .  .        81 

inflections  on  dr.  Perkins'  metallic  points  .  .         84 

Publius  to  Pollia  ....  37 

The  serious  menace;  or  Botany  Bay  and  Nootka  Sound          91 
On  the  uniformity  and  perfection  of  nature  .  .       04 

Translation  of  Gray's  ode  on  the  grand  chartreuse          .         95 
October's  address  .  .  97 

On  the  universality,  and  other  attributes  of  the  god  of  nature     99 
Stanzas  to  an  alien,  &c.  .  .  .  100 

On  a  proposed  negociation  with  the  french  republic        .         103 
On  the  religion  of  nature  .  .  .  105 

On  the  invasion  of  Rome  in  1796  .  .  106 

On  the  royal  coalition  against  republican  liberty  .         108 

Ode  for  July  the  fourth,  1799  .  .  .110 

The  reward  of  innocence  .  .  .  113 

On  the  evils  of  humap  life  .  .  1 15 

The  scurrilous  scribe  .  .  ,  117 

To  the  scribe  of  scribes  .  .  118 

Belief  and  unbelief  .  .  .  .119 

The  republican  festival  .  .  .  121 

Susanna's  tomb  .  .  .  .123 

On  the  war  patrons  in  1793  .       124 

On  hearing  a  political  oration  .  .  123 

On  a  proposed  system  of  state  consolidation  .  120 

Stanzas  on  a  political  projector  .  .  •         131 

Nature's  debt  ....  133 

New  year's  eve  .  .  .  .134 

On  passing  by  an  old  church  yard  ,  .  137 

The  order  of  the  day  .  .  .  .138 

On  launching  the  frigate  Constitution  .  .  141 

The  bethlehemite  ;  or,  fair  solitary        .  .  .143 

On  the  attempted  launch  of  a  frigate  .  .  144 

On  the  free  use  of  the  lancet  in  yellow  fever  .  146 

On  the  city  encroachments  OB  the  river  Hudson  .          147 

SttUKas  »n  tie  pirate  flUcfc beard's  castle  in  et.  TliOBHft         14'9 


Till  CONTENTS   OF   VOL.    I. 

The  hermit  and  the  traveller  .  .  .  lit  I 
Stanzas  to  the  memory  of  general  Washington  .  154 
Stanzas  upon  the  same  subject  with  the  preceding  .  156 
Stanzas  on  the  extravagant  encomiums  on  gen.  Washington  158 
Reflections  on  the  mutability  of  things  .  .  161 
Military  recruiting,  or  address  to  a  segar  smoker  .  163 
On  the  establishment  of  a  theatre,  in  New-York  „  165 
On  the  Peak  of  Pico,  one  of  the  azore  islands  .  167 
A  bacchanalian  dialogue  .  .  .169 
Stanzas  on  the  aquatic  devastations  in  the  Island  of  Madeira  171 
On  the  Peak  of  Teneriffe  .  .  .  .  177 
Answer  to  a  card  of  invitation  at  Teneriffe  .  179 
To  Seniora  Julia — on  leaving  a  dance  .  »  182 
Lines  on  Seniora  Julia,  of  Port  Oratava  .  183 
Lines  on  a  rural  nymph  descending  from  the  Madeira  moun 
tains  -  180 


FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 


REFLECTIONS 

ON   THE   GRADUAL   PROGRESS   OF   NATIONS   FROM   DEMO- 
CRATICAL    STATES,    To   DESPOTIC    EMPIRES. 

Mantua  vse  misera  nhnium  yicina  Cfcmonae !  VIRGIT., 

Oh  ftital  day  !  when  to  the  Atlantic  shore, 
European  despots  sent  the  doctrine  o'er, 
That  man's  vast  race  was  born  to  lick  the  dust ; 
Feed  on  the  winds,  or  toil  through  life  accurst ; 
Poor  and  despised,  that  rulers  might  he  great 
And  swell  to  monarchs,  to  devour  the  state. 

Whence  came  these  ills,  or  from  what  causes  grew, 
This  vortex  vast,  that  only  spares  the  lew, 
Despotic  sway,  where  every  plague  combined, 
J)istracts,  degrades,  and  swallows  up  mankind ; 
Takes  from  the  intellectual  sun  its  light, 
And  shrouds  the  world  in  universal  night  ? 

Accuse  not  nature  for  the  dreary  scene, 
Tint  glooms  her  stage  or  hides  her  heaveu  serene, 
Sh<r\  equal  still  in  ail  her  varif     ways, 
An  equal  blessing  to  the  worla  displays, 
B 


'14  PKEISTEAU'S  POEMS. 

;  <Tfee  -suns-  that  <nowvoff  Northern  climates  glow, 
Will  soo?i  retire  to  melt  Antarctic  snow, 
The  seas  she  robb'd  to  form  her  clouds  and  rain, 
Return  in  rivers  to  that  source  again ; 
But  man,  wrong'd  man*  borne  down,  deceived  and 

vex'd, 

Groans  on  through  life,  bewildered  and  perplex'd  ; 
No  suns  on  him  but  suns  of  misery  shine, 
Now  march'd  to  war,  now  grovelling  in  the  mine. 
Chain'd,  fetterM,  prostrate,  sent  from  earth  a  slave, 
To  seek  rewards  hi  worlds  beyond  the  grave. 

If  in  her  general  system,  just  to  all, 
We  nature  an  impartial  parent  call, 
Why  did  she  not  on  man's  whole  race  bestow, 
Those  fine  sensations  angels  only  know  ,* 
Who,  sway'd  by  reason,  with  superior  mind 
In  nature's  state  all  nature's  blessings  find, 
Which  shed  through  ail,  does  all  their  race  pervade, 
In  streams  not  niggard  by  a  despot  made  ? 

Leave  ihis  a  secret  in  great  nature's  breast, 
Confess  that  all  her  works  tend  to  the  best, 
Or  own  that  man's  neglected  culture  here 
Breeds  all  the  mischiefs  that  we  feel  or  fear. 
In  all,  except  the  skill  to  rule  her  race, 
Man,  wise  and  skilful,  gives  each  part  its  place  ; 
Each  nice  machine  he  plans,  to  reason  true, 
Adapting  all  things  to  the  end  in  view, 
But  taught  in  this,  the  art  himself  to  rule 
His  sense  is  folly,  and  himself  a  fool. 


PROGRESS  OF  NATIONS.  1 

Where  social  strength  resides,  there  rests,  tis  plain, 
The  power,  mankind  to  govern  and  restrain  : 
This  strength  is  not  but  in  the  social  plan 
Controling  all,  the  common  good  of  man, 
That  power  concentred  by  the  general  voice, 
In  honest  men*  an  honest  people's  choice, 
With  frequent  change,  to  keep  the  patriot  pure, 
And  from  vain  views  of  power  the  heart  secure  : 
Here  lies  the  secret,  hid  from  Rome  or  Greece, 
That  holds  a  state  in  awe,  yet  holds  in  peace. 

See  through  the  world,  in  ages  now  retired, 
Man  foe  to  man,  as  policy  required  : 
At  some  proud  tyrant's  nod  what  millions  rose, 
To  extend  their  sway,  and  make  a  world  their  foes, 
View  Asia  ravaged,  Europe  drench'd  with  blood, 
In  fends  whose  cause  no  nation  understood. 
The  cause  we  fear,  of  so  much  misery  sown, 
Known  at  the  helm  of  state,  and  there  alone. 

Left  to  himself,  wherever  man  is  found, 
In  peace  he  aims  to  walk  life's  little  round  ; 
In  peace  to  sail,  in  peace  to  till  the  soil, 
Nor  force  false  grandeur  from  a  brother's  toil. 
All  but  the  base,  designing,  scheming,  few, 
Who  seize  on  nations  with  a  robber's  view, 
With  crowns  and  sceptres  awe  his  dazzled  eye, 
And  priests  that  hold  the  artillery  of  the  sky  ; 
These,  these,  with  armies,  navies,  potent  grown, 
Impoverish  man  and  bid  the  nations  groan. 
These  with  pretended  balances  of  states 
Keep  worlds  at  variance,  breed  eternal  bates, 


16  PRENEAU'S  POEMS, 

Make  man  the  poor  base  slave  of  low  design, 

Degrade  his  nature  to  its  last  decline, 

Shed  hell's  worst  blots  on  his  exalted  race, 

And  make  them  poor  and  mean,  to  make  them  base. 

Shall  views  like  these  assail  our  happy  land, 
Where  embryo  raonarchs  thirst  tor  wide  command, 
Shall  a  whole  nation's  strength  and  lair  renown, 
Be  sacrificed,  to  prop  a  tottering  throne, 
Th.it,  ages  past,  the  world's  great  curse  ha    stood, 
Has  throve  on  plunder,  and  been  ted  on  blood. — 
Americans !  will  you  control  such  views  ? 
'Speak— tor  you  must — you  have  no  hour  to  lose. 


TO  THE    REV. 

SAMUEL  STANHOPE  SMITH,  D.  D. 


Nassau-hill*  at  Prmcetnn,  New-Jer 
sey,  on  ihe  rebuildirg  tf  that  noble  edifice,  which 
h.d  been  destroyed  by  fif. 

This  honor'd  pile,  so  late  in  ashes  laid, 
Once  more  emerges,   by  your  generous  aid  ; 
Your  aid,  and  their's,  who  through  our  vast  domain, 
Befriend  the  muses,  and  their  cause  sustain. 

In  flames  involved,  that  stately  '  ;brie  fell, 
Wr  r  re.  long  presiding,  you  deserved  so  well; 
But,  to  the  dust  when  you  beheld  it  fall, 
The  honor'd,  famed,  majestic,  NASSAU-HALL. 


NASSAU-HALL.  17 

Not  then  repining  in  that  darkened  hour 
Your  native  genius  show'd  its  native  power, 
And  plann'd  the  means  to  bid  a  structure  rise 
Pride  of  the  arts,  and  favorite  of  the  wise. 
For  this  we  saw  you  trace  the  unwearied  mile 
And  saw  the  friends  of  Nassau  on  you  smile  ; 
They  to  your  efforts  lent  their  generous  aid, 
And  every  honor  to  your  genius  paid, 
To  the  firm  patron  of  the  arts  they  gave 
What  Alfred  lavish'd,  and  what  arts  should  have. 

For  this  we  saw  you  rove  the  southern  waste 
In  our  Columbia's  milder  climates  placed, 
Those  happier  shores,  where  Carolina  proves 
The  friend  of  Princeton's  academic  groves, 
Where  Georgia  owns  the  wreath  to  science  due 
And  honor 'd  science,  genius,  art,  and  you  : 
And  Charleston  every  generous  wish  returned, 
iSigh'd  for  the  loss,  and  for  her  favorite  mouriTd, 
Proud  of  her  sons,  who  by  your  cares  are  seen 
Lights  of  the  world,  and  pride  of  social  man. 
There  Ramsay  met  you,  esculapian  sage, 
The  famed  historian  of  a  warring  age, 
His  word  gave  vigor  to  your  vast  design, 
And  his  strong  efforts  equall'd  all  but  thine. 

Nassau  revived,  from  thence  in  time  proceed 
Chiefs,  who  shall  empire  sway,  or  legions  leati. 
Who,  warm'd  with  all  that  philosophic  glow 
Which  Greece,  or  Rome,  or  reasoning  powers  bestow, 
Shall  to  mankind  the  friends  and  guardians  be 
Shall  make  them  virtuous,  and  preserve  them  free. 
B2 


18  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

From  that  lost  pile,  which,  now  to  ashes  turn'd^ 
The  sa£e  regretted  and  the  muses  mourn M, 
Sprung,  once,  a  race  who  firm  to  freedom's  cause, 
Repell'd  oppression  and  despotic  laws, 
Unsceptred  kinss,  or  one  at  least  dismissed, 
With  half  the  lords  and  prefects  on  his  list  : 
Such,  early,  here  imbibed  the  sacred  flame 
Ti mt  glanced  from  heaven,  or  from  true  science  came  : 
With  these  enroll'd.  be  every  honor  done 
To  our  firm  statesman,  patriot,  MADISON, 
Form'd  to  the  purpose  of  a  reasoning  age, 
To  raise  its  genius,  and  direct  its  rage. 

This  tribute  from  a  friendly  heart  receive, 
O  Smith  !  which  must  your  kind  indulgence  crave. 
If  half  a  stranger  to  the  poet's  lay, 
It  fails  your  just,  your  due  reward  to  pay. 


THE  NEW  AGE  5 
OR,    TIIUTH  TRIUMPHANT. 

Jo  reason's  view  the  times  advance 
That  other  scenes  to  man  disclose. 
When  nature  to  her  children  grants 
A  smiling  season  of  repose  ; 

And  better  laws  the  wise  will  traer, 
To  curb  the  wicked  of  our  race. 


THE  NEW  AGE.  19 

I 
Those  happy  ages,  years  of  bli.ss, 

Had  many  an  ancient  sage  foretold, 
Who,  if  they  err'd  or  anght  amiss, 
Predicted  of  this  age  of  gold, 

It  was,  that  crowns  and  courts  and  kings 
Would  still  attend  this  change  of  things. 

Strange  thought,  that  they  whose  god  is  gain. 

Who  live  by  war,  who  thrive  on  blood, 
Of  half  that  live  the  curse  the  bane, 
Could  ever  rule  among  the  good  : 
These  did  some  hateful  fiend  engage 
To  banish  peace  and  vex  the  age. 

Man  to  be  happy,  as  he  may 

As  far  as  nature  meant  him  here, 
Should  yield  to  no  despotic  sway 
Or  systems  of  degrading  fear  ; 

And  sovereign  man,  new  modell'd  now. 
To  sovereign  man  alone  should  bow. 

The  civil  despot,  once  destroyed, 

WTith  all  his  base,  tyrannic  laws, 

The  mind  of  man  will  be  employed 

In  aiding  virtue  and  her  cause  : 

Enlighten'd  once,  inform'd  and  free, 
The  mind  admits  no  tyranny. 

1  saw  the  blest  benignant  hour 

Whon  the  worst  plague  of  human  race, 

Dread  superstition,  lost  her  power, 
And,  with  her  patrons,  black  and  base, 


20  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Fled  to  the  darkest  shades  of  hell, 
And  bade  at  least  one  world  farewell, 

Fanatic  flames  extinguished,  all 

The  energy  of  thought  will  rise  : 
j  see  imposture's  fabric  fall, 

Each  wicked  imp  of  falsehood  dies ; 
And  sovereign  truth  prevails  at  last 
To  triumph  o'er  the  errors  pa^t 

The  moral  beauties  of  the  mind 

If  man  would  to  a  blessing  turn, 
And  the  great  powers  to  him  assign'd 
Would  cultivate,  improve,  adorn  : 
The  sun  of  happiness,  and  peace 
Would  shine  on  earth  and  never  cease, 


ON  THE 
DEATH  OF  CATHARINE   II. 

Empress  of  all  the  Russias. 

Confusion  to  that  iron  sway 
Which  bids  the  brute,  not  man,  obey, 
And  dooms  him  to  Siberian  soil, 
Chains,  whips,  and  vassalage,  and  toil. 

This  female  wolf,  whom  wolves  did  nurse, 
So  long  of  polar  worlds  the  curse, 


CATHARINE  II.  21 

This  Catharine,  skill'd  in  royal  arts, 
To  the  dark  world  at  last  departs. 

Ill  style,  the  second  of  her  name, 
She  to  the  crown  by  treason  came; 
To  Fetor,  drowsy,  royal  drone, 
She  gave  a  prison  for  a  throne. 

She  would  hare  sent  her  tartar  bands 
To  waste  and  ravage  gallic  lands. 
She  would  have  sent  her  legions  o'er, 
Columbia !  to  invade  your  shore  ' — 

But,  even  in  conquest,  sfa  foresaw 
Destruction  to  despotic  law  ; 
She  K  ar'd,  in  hordes  returning  home, 
Tlut  liberty  would  with  them  come. 

She  fear'd  the  savage  from  the  den 
Would  see  and  learn  the  rights  oi'  men  : 
And  hence,  in  time,  destruction  br.ng 
To  hell's  vicegerents — queen  and  king. 

No  thanks  to  her  !  she  fear'd  her  beasts, 
Enslaved  by  kings,  enslaved  by  priests, 
Even  if  all  freedom  they  o'er  ran, 
Would  learn  the  dignity  of  man ; 

And  kept  them  home,  and  held  them  there, 
Oppression's  iron  reign  to  bear ; 
An    nevrr  meet  a  beam  of  light, 
Involved  in  worse  than  Zembla's  night, 


22  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Now  she  is  dead,  and  Paul  will  rise 
As  fierce  as  she,  but  not  as  wise ; 
He  may  his  barbarous  millions  send, 
He  may  the  fall  of  France  intend ; 

But  they  who  see  with  keener  eye 
Will  see  them  faint,  will  see  them  fly ; 
With  hostile  step  will  see  them  come 
To  turn  their  backs,  or  meet  their  doom. 


ARRIVING  IN  SOUTH  CAROLINA,  1798, 

A  happy  gale  presents,  once  more, 
The  gay  and  ever  verdant  shore, 
Which  every  pleasure  will  restore 

To  those  who  come  again  : 
You,  Carolina,  from  the  seas 
Emerging,  claim  all  power  to  please, 
Emerge  with  elegance  and  ease 

From  Neptune's  briny  main. 

To  find  in  you  a  happier  home, 
Retirement  for  the  days  to  come, 
From  northern  coasts  you  saw  me  roam, 
jr       By  flattering  fancy  moved  : 
I  came,  and  in  your  fragrant  woods, 
Your  magic  isles  and  gay  abodes, 
In  rural  haunts  and  passing  floods 
Review'd  the  scenes  I  loved, 


SOUTH  CAROLINA.  23 

-  When  sailing  oft,  from  year  to  year 
And  leaving  all  I  counted  dear, 
I  found  the  happy  country  here 

Where  manly  hearts  abound ; 
Where  friendship's  kind  extended  hand, 
All  social,  leads  a  generous  band ; 
Where  heroes,  who  redeem'd  the  land 
Still  live  to  be  renown'd  : 

Who  live  to  fill  the  trump  of  fame, 
Or,  dying,  left  the  honor'd  name 
Which  Athens  had  been  proud  to  claim 

From  her  historian's  page 

These  with  invading  thousands  strove, 
These  bade  the  foe  their  prowess  prove, 
And  from  their  old  dominions  drove 

The  tyrants  of  the  age. 

k 

Long,  long  may  every  good  be  thine, 
Sweet  country,  named  from  Caroline, 
Once  seen  in  Britain's  court  to  shine 

The  fairest  of  the  fair  : 
Still  may  the  wanderer  find  a  home 
Where'er  thy  varied  forests  bloom, 
And  peace  and  pleasure  with  him  come 

To  take  their  station  here. 

Here  Ashley,  with  his  brother  stream, 
By  Charleston  gliding,  all,  may  claim, 
That  ever  graced  a  poet's  dream 
Or  sooth'd  a  statesman's  cares ; 


21  FRENEAU'S  PQEiMS. 

She,  seated  near  her  foivsts  blue, 
Which  winter's  rigor  nev.  r  knew, 
With  half  an  ocean  in  her  view 
Her  shining  turrets  rears. 

Here  stately  oaks  of  living  green 
Alone  the  extended  coast  are  seen. 
That  rise  beneath  a  heaven  serene, 

Unfading  through  the  year.... 
In  groves  the  tall  Palmetto  grows, 
Its  shades  inviting  to  repose, 
The  fairest,  loveliest  scenes  disclose.... 

All  nature  charms  us  here. 

Dark  wilds  are  thine,  the  yellow  field, 
And  rivers  by  no  frost  congeal'd, 
And,  Ceres,  all  that  you  can  yield 

To  deck  the  festive  board ; 
The  snow  white  fleece,  from  pods  that  grow^, 
A"    »very  seed  that  Flora  sows — 
The  orange  and  the  fig-tree  shows 

A  paradise  restored. 

There  rural  love  to  bless  the  swains 
In  the  bright  eye  of  beauty  reigns, 
And  brings  a  heaven  upon  tiie  plains 

From  some  dear  Emma's  charms  ; 
S<>mo  Laura  fair  who  haunts  the  mead, 
Some  Helen,  whom  the  graces  lead, 
Whose  charms  the  charms  of  her  exceed 

That  set  the  world  in  arm*. 


SOUTH  CAROLINA, 

And  distant  from  the  sullen  roar 
Of  ocean,  bursting  on  the  shore, 
A  region  rises,  valued  more 

Than  all  the  shores  possess  :~ 
There  lofty  hills  their  range  display, 
Placed  in  a  climate  ever  gay, 
From  wars  and  commerce  far  away, 

Sweet  nature's  wilderness. 

There  all  that  art  has  taught  to  bloom, 
The  streams  that  from  thf-  mountain  foaro? 
And  thine,  Eutaw,  that  distant  roam, 

Impart  supreme  delight : 
The  prospect  to  the  western  glade, 
The  ancient  forest,  undecay'd — 
All  these  the  wildest  scenes  have  made 

That  ever  awed  the  sight. 

There  Congaree  his  torrent  pours, 
Valw/a,  through  the  forest  roars, 
And  black  Catawba  laves  his  shores 

With  waters  from  afar, 
Till  mingled  with  the  proud  Santec, 
Their  strength,  united,  finds  the  sea, 
Through  many  a  plain,  by  many  a  tree, 

Then  rush  across  the  bar. 

But,  where  all  nature's  fancies  join, 
Were  but  a  single  acre  mine, 
Blest  with  the  cypress  and  the  pine, 
I  would  request  no  more ; 
C 


26  FREtfEAU'S  POEMS. 

And  leaving  all  that  once  could  please, 
The  northern  groves  and  stormy  seas — 
I  would  not  change  such  scenes  as  these 
For  all  that  men  adore. 


MEMORY  OF  EDWARD  RUTLEDGE,  esq. 

late  governor  of  South  Carolina. 

Removed  from  life's  uncertain  stage, 

In  virtue  firm,  in  honor  clear — 
One  of  the  worthies  of  our  age, 

RUTLEDGE !  resigns  his  station  here. 

Alike  in  arts  of  war  and  peace, 

And  form'd  by  nature  to  excel, 
From  early  Rome  and  ancient  Greece, 

He  modelled  all  his  actions  well. 

When  britons  came,  with  chains  to  bind, 

Or  ravage  these  devoted  lands, 
He  our  firm  league  of  freedom  sign'd 

And  counsell'd  how  to  break  their  bands,. 

To  the  great  cause  of  honor  true, 
He  took  his  part  with  manly  pride. 


E.  RUTLEDGE,  ESQ.  27 

His  spirit  o'er  these  regions  flevr, 
The  patriots'  and  the  soldiers'  guide. 

In  arts  of  peace,  in  war's  bold  schemes 
Amongst  our  brightest  stars  he  moved, 

The  Lees,  the  Moultries,  Sutnters,  Greenes — 
By  all  admired,  by  aH  beloved. 

A  patriot  of  superior  mould, 

He  dared  all  foreign  force  oppose, 
Till,  from  a  tyrant's  ashes  cold, 

The  mighty  pile  of  freedom  rose. 

In  process  of  succeeding  days 

When  peace  resumed  her  joyous  reign, 

With  laurel  wreaths  and  twining  bays 
He  sought  less  active  life  again. 

There,  warm  to  plead  the  orphan's  cause 

From  misery's  eye  to  dry  the  tear, 
He  stood  where  justice  guards  the  laws 

At  once  humane,  at  once  severe. 

Twas  not  his  firm  enlighten'd  mind, 

So  ardent  in  affairs  of  state  ; 
Twas  not  that  he  in  armies  shined 

That  made  him  so  completely  great : 

Persuasion  dwelt  upon  his  tongue,- 
He  spoke — all  hush'd,  and  all  were  awed;  — 

IFrom  all  he  said  conviction  sprung, 
•And  crowds  were  eager  to  applaud , 


•28  FREtfEAU'S  POEMS. 

Thus  long  esteem'd,  thus  early  loved, 
The  tender  husband,  friend  sincere ; 

The  parent,  patriot,  sage,  approved, 
Had  now  BUI  vived  his  fiftieth  year — 

Had  now  the  highest  honors  met 
Th:it  Carolina  could  bestow  ; 

Presiding  o'er  that  potent  state 

Where  streams  of  wealth  and  plenty  flow  ; 

Whrre  labor  spreads  her  rural  reign 
To  western  regions  bold  and  free ; 

And  commerce  on  the  Atlantic  main. 
Wafts  her  rich  stores  of  industry  : 

Then  left  this  stage  of  human  things 
To  shine  in  a  sublimer  sphere 

Wh<  if  time  to  one  assemblage  brings 
All  virtuous  minds,  all  hearts  sincere 


ON  SUPERSTITION. 

Implanted  in  the  human  breast, 
R<  Hjion  means  to  make  us  blest; 
On  ivason  built,  she  lends  her  aid 
To  help  us  through  li;e's  sickening  shadt-. 

But  man,  to  endless  error  prone 

And  fearing  most  what's  most  unknown, 


SUPERSTITION. 

To  phantoms  bows  that  round  him  rise, 
To  angry  gods,  and  vengeful  skies. 

Mistaken  race,  in  error  lost, 
And  toes  to  them  who  love  you  most, 
No  more  fictitious  gods  revere, 
Nor  worship  what  engenders  fear. 

O  Superstition  !  to  thy  sway 
If  man  has  bow'd  and  will  obey, 
Misfortune  still  must  be  his  doom 
And  sorrow  through  the  days  to  come. 

Hence,  ills  on  ills  successive  grow 
To  cloud  our  day  of  bliss  below  ; 
Hence  wars  and  feuds,  and  deadly  hate, 
And  all  the  woes  that  on  them  wait. 

Here  moral  virtue  finds  its  bane, 
Hence,  ignorance  with  her  slavish  train, 
Hence,  half  the  vigor  of  the  mind 
Relaxed,  or  lost  in  human  kind. 

The  social  tie  by  this  is  broke 
When  we  some  tyrant  god  invoke  : 
The  bitter  curse  from  man  to  man 
From  this  infernal  fiend  began. 

The  reasoning  power,  celestial  guest, 
The  stamp  upon  the  soul  impress' d ; 
When  Superstition's  awe  degrades, 
Us  beauty  fails,  its  splendor  fades. 
C  2 


30  FRFNEAU'S  POEMS. 

O  !  t:ini  from  her  detested  ways, 
l>-  ;-fpy  man  !  her  fatal  maze  ; 
Th-   r   ison  which  he  gave,  improve, 
And  venerate  the  power  above. 


THE  ROYAL  APPRENTICE, 
A  LONDON  STORY. 

A  widow  who  some  miles  from  London  lived, 

Far  in  a  vale  obscure,  of  little  note, 

With  much  ado  a  poor  subsistence  gain'd 

From  a  spinning-wheel,  that  just  her  living  brought, 

A  son  she  had,  a  rude  mischievous  wight, 
Who,  now  to  fifteen  years  or  more  arrived, 
Would  neither  dig  nor  thresh,  nor  hold  the  plough, 
But  simply  by  the  poor  old  woman  lived. 

Joan  thought  it  time  this  lazy,  lounging  lad 
Should  learn  some  trade,  since  country  work  he  hated  : 
Jerry,  said  she,  to  London  you  must  go, 
And  learn  to  work  ;  tor  this  you  was  created  ; 

While  tarrying  here,  you  eat  up  all  my  kail, 
Sc-).rre  leave  a  turnip-top — my  hens  you  ki!J, 
A:!*1  nothing  ra?n  :  -my  wheel  alone  goes  round, 
But  time  must  come,  my  boy,  when  stop  it  will ; 


THE  ROYAL  APPRENTICE.  31 

Your  legs  and  arms  grow  every  day  more  strong  ; 
For  height  you  shortly  will  be  call'd  a  man  ; 
Not  so  with  me — I  am  hastening  down  the  hill 
And  soon  must  mix  with  dust,  where  I  began  ! 

Jerry  with  tears,  received  il\e  good  advice  ; 
$o,  up  to  London  town,  next  week  they  went  : 
Now  choose,  said  Joan,  the  trade  you  fancy  best, 
for  to  some  trade  you  must  and  shall  be  sent. 

(So  round  he  stroU'd  through  many  a  street  and  alley, 
$aw  blacksmiths,  here  like  Vulcan,  wielding  sledges, 
There  tailors,  sitting  cross-! egg' d,  on  a  board, 
Next  barbers,  whetting  up  their  razors  edges  ; 

Now  saw  a  cobbler,  cobbling  in  his  stall, 
Then,  weaver,  busy  with  his  warp  and  woof, 
Now,  mason,  raising  high  some  lordling's  wall, 
Or  carpenter,  engaged  upon  a  roof. 

These  pleased  him  not — all  this  was  hard  eanf'd  cash, 
Tight  work  he  thought,  in  one  disguise  or  other  ; 
He  look'd  at  labor — saw  it  was  not  good — 
Or  only  good,  as  managed  by  his  mother. 

He'  sliook  his  head,  as  if  he  meant  to  say, 
All  this  is  worse  than  threshing — learn  a  trade  ! 
Something  Pll  learn  tiiat's  line,  genteel,  and  airy, 
For  common  work  these  hands  were  never  made. 

At  last,  he  chanced  to  stray  where  dwells  the  king, 
Great  George  the  third,  in  all  his  pomp  and  glare  ; 


,32  FRENEAU'S    POKM9. 

Well  now,  thought  Jerry,  here  must  live  a  man 
That  has  a  trade  would  suit  me  to  a  hair. 

There's  little  doing — all  is  brisk  and  gay, 
And  dainty  dishes  go  a  begging  here  : 
Some  seem   to  work,  yet  ail  their  work  is  plaj, 
I  will  be  bound  at  least  for  seven  long  year. 

So  back  he  came  where  honest  Joan  was  waiting- 
Well,  Jerry  tell  me,  what's  the  trade  you  pitch  on  ? 
Mother,  said  he,  there  is  but  one  I  like, 
Or  which  a  man  is  likely  to  get  rich  on — 

*'  Come  tell  me  then  the  business  you  prefer  : 
Onr  only  thriving  trade  ! — a  curious  thing  ! 
Out  with  it  then  !" — said  Jerry,  mother  dear. 
Dear  mother,  bind  me  'prentice  to  the  king. 


THE  MILLENNIUM— 

TO    A  RANTING  FIELD  ORATOR. 

With  aspect  wild,  in  ranting  strain 

You  bring  the  brilliant  period  near, 
When  monarchy  will  close  her  reign 
And  wars  and  warriors  disappear  ; 
The  lion  and  the  lamb  will  stray, 
And,  social,  walk  the  woodland  way, 

I  tear,  with  superficial  view 
You  contemplate  dame  nature's  plan  : — 


THE  MILLENNIUM.  33 

She  various  forms  of  being  drew, 

And  made  the  common  tyrant — man  : 
She  form'dthem  all  with  wise  design, 
Distinguish'd  each,  and  drew  tke  line. 

Observe  the  lion's  visage  bold 

His  iron  tooth,  his  murderous  claw, 
His  aspect  cast  in  anger's  mould  ; 
The  strength  of  steel  is  in  his  paw  : 

Could  he  be  meant  with  lambs  to  stray 
Or  feed  along  the  woodland  way  ? 

Since  first  his  race  on  earth  began 

War  was  his  trade  and  war  will  be  : 
And  when  he  quits  that  ancient  plau 
With  milder  natures  to  agree, 

He  will  be  changed  to  something  new 
And  have  some  other  part  to  do. 

One  system  see  through  all  this  frame, 

Apparent  discord  still  prevails  ; 
The  forest  yields  to  active  flame, 
The  ocean  swells  with  stormy  gales ; 
No  season  did  the  God  decree 
When  leagued  ia  friendship  these  should  be. 

And  do  you  think  that  human  kind 

Can  shun  the  all-pervading  law — 

That  passion's  slave  we  ever  find — 

Who  discord  from  their  nature  draw  IT- 
Ere  discord  can  from  man  depart 
He  must  assume  a  different  heart. 


34  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Yet  in  the  slow  advance  of  things 

A  time  may  come  our  race  may  rise, 
By  reaton's  aid  to  stretch  their  wings, 
And  see  the  light  with  other  eyes  ; 
And  when  the  ancient  mist  is  pass'd  •<, 
To  find  their  nature  changed  at  last. 

The  sun  himself,  the  powers  ordain, 
Should  in  no  perfect  circle  stray ; 
He  shuns  the  equatorial  plane, 
Prefers  an  odd  serpentine  way, 
And  lessens  yearly,  sophists  prove, 
His  angle  in  the  voids  above. 

When  moving  in  his  ancient  line, 

And  no  obtique  ecliptic  near, 
With  some  new  influence  he  may  shine 
But  you  and  I  will  not  be  here 
To  see  the  lion  shed  his  teeth 
Or  kings  forget  the  trade  of  death— 


N  THE  FEDERAL  CITY— 1797, 

All  human  things  must  have  their  rise, 
And  Rome  advanced  from  little  size 
Til!  future  ages  saw  her  «rown 
The  mistress  of  the  world,  then  known. 


THE  FEDERAL  CITY— 1797. 

So,  bounding;  on  P  .towmac's  flood, 
Where  ancient  oaks  so  lately  stood 
-An  infant  city  grows  apace 
Intended  Cor  a  ruling  race. 

Here  capitols  of  awful  height — 
Already  burst  upon  the  sight. 
And  buildings,  meant  for  embryo  kings 
Display  their  fronts  and  spread  their  wings. 

This  city  bodes  no  common  late — 
All  other  towns,  as  books  relate, 
With  huts  at  first  were  th;nly  spread. 
With  hovels  mean,  or  humble  shed. 

But  matters  here  are  quite  reversed  ; 
Here,  palaces  are  built  the  first, 
And  late  will  common  rustics  come 
In  such  abodes  to  find  a  home. 

Meantime,  it  will  be  fair  and  just 
(Nor  will  our  congress  fret,  we   trust) 
If  while  the  poor  at  distance  lurk — 
Themselves  do  their  own  dirty  work. 

Rome's  earliest  citizens  were  thieves, 
So  history  tells,  and  man  believes  , 
May  matters  be  again  reversed, 
May  they  who  here  inhabit  first 
Instruct  the  late  historians  pen 
To  write — that  they  were  honest  ra  en.   a 


36  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 


THE  NAUTICAL  RENDEZVOUS. 

Written  at  a  house  in  Guadalovpe,  in  1800,  where  they 
mr§  collecting  recruits  for  a  privateer* 

The  ship  preparing  ibr  the  main 
Enlists  a  wild,  but  gallant  train, 
Who  in  a  moving  jail  would  roain 
Disgusted  with  the  world  at  horn*. 

They  quit  the  fields  and  quit  the  trees 
To  seek  their  bread  on  stormy  seas  ; 
Perhaps  to  see  the  land  no  more, 
Or  see,  but  not  enjoy  the  shore- 
There  must  be  some  as  this  world  goes 
Who  every  joy  and  pleasure  lose. 
And  round  the  world  at  random  stray 
To  gain  their  bread  the  shortest  way. 

They  hate  the  ax,  they  hate  the  hoc 

And  execrate  the  rural  plough, 

The  mossy  bank,  the  sylvan  shade 

Where  once  they  wrought,  where  once  they  play'il  - 

Prefer  a  boisterous,  mad  career, 
A  broken  leg,  and  wounds  serece, 
To  all  the  joys  that  can  be  found 
Oa  mountain  top  or  furrow'd  ground  - 


THE  NAUTICAL   RENDEZVOUS.  37 

A  hammock  holds  them  when  they  sleep  ; 
A  tomb,  when  dying,  in  the  deep, 
A  crowded  deck,  a  cann  of  beer 
These  sons  of  Amphitrite  prefer 
To  all  the  verdure  of  the  fields 
Or  all  a  quiet  pillow  yields. 

There  must  be  such  a  nervous  race, 
Who  venture  all,  and  no  disgrace  ; 
Who  will  support  through  every  blast, 
The  shatter'd  ship,  the  falling  mast — 
Who  will  support  through  every  sea 
The  sacred  cause  of  liberty, 
And  every  lot-  to  ruin  drag 
Who  aims  to  strike  the  gallic  flag. 


FHE  ROYAL  COCKNEY'S  IN  AMERICA— 1797. 

Why  travel  so  far  from  your  insular  home, 
Ye  cockneys  of  London,  and  all  in  a  foam, 
To  talk,  and  to  talk,  with  coxcombical  phiz, 
And  tell  what  a  nuisance  democracy  is  : 

Tvvas  a  lesson  we  learn'd 

When  you  were  concern'd 
In  wishing  success  to  the  vast  preparations 
To  conquer  and  pillage  the  royal-plantations. 

We  amrricans  far  from  your  king-ridden  isle 
Do  humbly  beseech  you,  all  democrat  haters, 
D 


38  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

For  fear  that  your  bodies  or  souls  you  defile, 
Would  fairly  go  off,  with  your  lies  and  your  satires  : 
The  monarch  you  worship  requests  your  assistance, 
And  h>>w  can  you  help  him  at  such  a  longdistance  ? 
Tis  an  englishman's  creed, 
And  they  all  have  agreed 

That,  out  of  old  England,  there's  nothing,  they  swear, 
That  can  with  old  England — dear  England — compare  ; 
So,  away  to  old  England,  or  we'll  send  you  there. 

A  swarm  is  arrived  from  the  hives  of  the  east, 

Determined  to  sap  the  republic's  foundation  ; 

And  who  is  their  leader,  their  scribe,  and  their  priest  ? 

Why,  Porcupine  Peter, 

The  democrat-eater, 

Transported  by  Pitt,  at  the  charge  of  the  nation, 
To  preach  to  the  demo's  a  new  revelation. 

His  patrons  in  England,  and  some  who  are  here, 
Consented  to  join  in  his  sink  of  scurrility, 
And  gave  him,  tis  certain,  four  thousand  a  year 
To  print  a  damn'd  libel,  to  please  our  nobility  ? 
Where  I — is  the  hero  of  all  that  is  said 
I — corporal  Cobbett* — a  man  of  the  blade  I 

If  his  countrymen  thought 

That  for  nothing  we  fought 
And  th°y  m^an  to  regain,  by  the  aid  of  his  press, 
A  country  they  lost,  to  their  shame  and  disgrace,. 

Let  them  fairly  engage 

In  some  liberal  page  : 

*  Alluding  to  the  egotistical  «?tyle  of  hi"  writing* 


ODE  TO  THE  AMERICANS.  39 

We  can  give  them  an  answer,  not  relish'd  by  some, 
Who  will  see  their  friend  Peter  go,  whimpering,  horn*. 


ODE  TO  THE  AMERICANS  : 

That  the  progress  of  liberty  and  reason  in  the  world  is 
slow  and  gradual ;  but,  considering  the  present  state  of 
thmgs<  and  the  light  of  science  universally  spreading, 
that  it  cannot  be  long  impeded^  or  its  complete  establish 
ment  prevented, — 1798, 

They  who  survey  the  human  stage, 

In  reason's  view  ;  through  time's  past  age, 

Will  find,  whatever  nature  planned 

Came,  first,  imperfect  from  her  hand, 

Or  what  ourselves  imperfect  call ; 

In  nature's  eye,  though  perfect  all — 

To  man  she  gave  to  improve,  adorn ; 
But  let  him  halt — and  all  things  turn 
To  assume  their  wild  primeval  cast, 
The  growth  of  a  neglected  waste. 

Yond'  stately  trees,  so  fresh  and  fair, 
That  now  such  golden  burthens  bear 
Were  once  mean  shrubs  that,  far  from  view* 
In  desert  woods,  unthrifty  grew. 

Man  saw  the  seeds  of  something  pood 
In  these  rude  children  of  the  wood  °3 


i 

40  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Apply 'd  the  knife,  and  pruned  with  care, 
Till  art  has  made  them  what  they  are, 

Witli  curious  eye,  search  history's  page, 
Am:  MAN  observe,  through  every  age; 
At  first  a  mere  barbarian,  he 
Bore  nothing  good,  (like  that  wild  tree.) 

At  length  by  thought  and  reason's  aid, 
Reflection  piercing  night's  dark  shade, 
Improvements  gain'd,  by  slow  advance 
Direction,  not  the  work  of  chance. 

Forsaking,  first,  the  savage  den 
\.^nd  fellow-beasts  less  fierce  than  men, 
New  plans  they  tbrm'd  for  war  or  power, 
Ana  sunk  the  ditch  and  raised  the  tower. 

In  course  of  years  the  human  mind 
Advancing  slow  proved  more  refined, 
Less  brutal  in  external  show, 
But  native  mischief  lurk'd  below, 

Despots  and  kings  begun  their  part, 
And  millions  fell  by  rules  of  art  ; 
Or  timl ice.  rankling  all  the  while, 
Lay  hid  beneath  the  treacherous  smile. 

Religion  brought  her  potent  aid 
To  kings,  their  subjects  to  degrade — 
Religion  1 — to  profane  your  name 
The  hag  of  superstition  came, 


ODE  TO  THE  AMERICANS.  41 

And  seized  your  place,  the  world  to  ensnare, 
A  bitter  harvest  doom'd  to  bear  ! 
Ana  priests,  or  history  much  deceives, 
Turn'd  aid-de-camps  to  sceptred  thieves. 

At  last,  that  cherub  from  the  skies, 
(Our  nature  meant  to  humanize,) 
Ana  sway,  without  a  king  or  crown, 
Philosophy,  from  heaven  came  down 

Adorn'd  with  all  her  native  charms 
She  clasp'd  her  offspring  in  her  arms, 
In  hope  the  mists  of  night  to  chase 
And  hold  them  in  her  fond  embrace. 

She,  only  she,  for  virtue  warm 
Dissolved  the  spell  and  broke  the  charm, 
That  bade  mankind  their  hands  imbue 
In  blood,  to  please  the  scheming  few, 

Arm'd  with  a  dart  of  fire  and  love 
She  left  the  seats  and  courts  above. 
And  her  celestial  power  display 'd 
Not  to  compel,  but  to  persuade. 

The  moment  she  had  whirl'd  her  sling 
Each  trembling  war-hawk  droop'd  his  wing .: 
They  saw  that  reason's  game  was  won, 
They  saw  the  trade  of  tyrants  done  : 

.And  all  was  calm — she  saw,  well  pleased, 
The  havoc  done,  the  tumult  ceased, 


2  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

She  saw  her  throne  was  now  adored, 
She  saw  the  reign  of  peace  restored, 

And  said,  4  f  leave  you — pray,  be  wise ! 

*  I'm  on  a  visit  to  the  skies, 

*  Let  incense  on  my  a! tars  burn 

*  And  you'll  be  blest  till  f  return.' 

But  sad  reverse ! — when  out  of  sight 
The  fiends  of  darkness  watch'd  her  flight—' 
What  she  had  built,  they  soon  displaced, 
Her  temples  burn'd,  her  tracks  effaced. 

Their  force  they  join'd,  to  quench  her  fiaine, 
A  thousand  ghastly  legions  came 
To  blast  tht:  blossom  in  the  bud 
And  retrograde  to  chains  and  blood. 

The  people  ! — to  be  bought  and  sold, 
Were  still  the  prize  they  wish'd  to  hold;-— 
All  peasants,  soldiers,  sailors,  slaves, 
The  common  sink  of  rogues  and  kna\f  v 

Yet,  nature  must  her  circle  run— 
Can  they  arrest  the  rising  sun  ? 
Prevent  his  warm  reviving  ray, 
Or  shade  the  influence  of  the  day  ? 

If  Europe  to  the  yoke  returns, 
Columbia  at  the  idea  spurns — 
Let  Britain  wield  barbarian  rage 
We  meet  her  here*  through  every  stn|«i 


ODE  TO  THE  AMERICANS.  41 

In  vain  her  navy  spreads  its  sails, 
The  strength  of  mind  at  last  prevails  ; 
And  reason  !  thy  prodigious  power 
Has  brought  it  to  its  closing  hour. 

Appeal  to  arms  henceforth  should  cease, 
And  man  might  learn  to  live  in  peace ; 
No  kings  with  iron  hearts  should  reign, 
To  seize  old  ocean's  free  domain. 

Americans !  would  you  conspire 
To  extinguish  this  increasing  fire  ? 
Would  you,  so  late  from  fetters  freed, 
Join  party  in  so  base  a  deed  ? 

Would  you  dear  freedom  sacrifice, 
Bid  navies  on  the  ocean  rise, 
Be  bound  by  military  laws, 
And  all,  to  aid  a  tyrant's  cause  ? 

Oh,  no !  but  should  all  shame  forsake, 
And  gratitude  her  exit  make, 
Could  you,  as  thousands  say  you  can, 
Desert  the  common  cause  of  man  ? 

A  curse  would  on  your  efforts  wait 
Old  british  sway  to  reinstate ; 
No  hireling  hosts  could  force  a  crown 
Nor  keep  the  bold  republic  down  : 

The  rising  race,  combined  once  more, 
^(ttild  honor  to  our  cause  restore, 


44  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

And  in  your  doom  and  downfall  sea! 
Such  woes  as  wicked  kings  shall  feel. 

O  liberty  !  seraphic  name, 
With  whom  from  heaven  fair  virtue  came, 
For  whom,  through  years  of  misery  toss*^ 
One  hundred  thousand  lives  were  lost  ; 

Still  shall  all  grateful  hearts  to  thee 
Incline  the  head  and  bend  the  knee ; 
For  thee  this  dream  of  life  forego 
And  quit  the  world  when  thou  dost  go ! 


THE  MODERN  JEHU; 
OR,  NOBILITY  ON  FOUR  WHEELS. 
Namque  ante  Helenam  cnrnis  fuit. — HOB. 

Old  Jehu  never  drove  so  fast 

A^  Jehu  in  our  t;ay, 
Whose  chariot  runs  at  such  a  rate 

It  soon  must  run  away. 

And  what  an  angel  do  we  see  I 

Fair  Anna  by  his  side  ! 
And  is — I  ask — or  is  she  not 

This  modern  Jehu's  bride? 

She  surely  is  of  royal  race— 
Nobility  at  least ; 


THE  MODERN  JEHU,  45 

And  to  what  palace  do  tbey  drive 
To  share  some  royal  feast  ? 

Sir  Jehu,  in  the  gay  machine 

Wedged  in  with  smiling  Nan, 
Looks  mighty  wise,  an  i  eunuinger 

Than  Jehu's  cunning  man* 

O'er  public  and  republican 

Full  royally  he  rode, 
And  on  UK  strength  of  bottled  ale 

Came  blundering  all  abroad. 

The  very  horses  seem  to  tell 

That  we  must  doff  our  hats, 
When  galloping  along  the)  go 

So  much  like  little  rats. 

O  Jehu,  such  a  mad  career 

Will  never,  never  do  ; 
We,  little  people,  in  the  streets 

Must  pass  as  well  as  you. 

In  little  whispers  some  have  said 

Th-;  matter  was 
The  footman  should  have  sat  before 

And  Jehu  stood  behind. 

What  is  the  motto  to  the  coach  ? 

Stand  off,  and  let  us  ^  .a  : 
But  have  a  care  a  ad  i;o  not  touch 

The  ensigns  on  the  rear. 


46  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

The  motto  is,  in  latin  words, 

4  Dame  Fortune  helps  the  bold  :'* 

And  this,  we  know,  it  also  means, — • 
She  help'd  a  devilish  scold. 

Then  take  good  care,  sir  Jehu  dear, 
Who  frive  at  such  a  rate, 

Or  Nanny,  she  may  get  a/a/J, 
And  you  a  broken  pate. 

Such  things  have  happen'd  thrice  before 

As  she  remembers  well. 
And  happen  but  it  may  again, 

Not  Nanny's  self  can  tell. 

These  coaches  are  uncertain  things 
When  horses  take  a  start, 

The  likeliest  way  to  ride  secure 
Is  in  the  market  cart. 


TFE  POLITICAL  RIVAL  SUITORS. 

Occasioned  by  the  detection  ofcerta'n  foreign  scheme^ 
for  exclusive  privileges  in  American  commerce. 

This  western  world,  allowing  maid 
In  fortune's  shining  robes  array'd, 
This  heiress  of  a  vast  estate 
Though  not  of  very  ancient  date. 
Beheld  a  crowd  of  lovers  come 
To  gain  her  love  and  take  her  home* 

*  Fortuna  fortibus  fa  vet 


THE  POLITICAL  RIVAL  SUITORS.        47 

This  nymph  was  of  a  tawny  cast, 
And  now  her  twentieth  year  *  had  pass'd ; 
Her  hands  and  arms  were  well  enough, 
Her  features  show'd  her—  rugged  stuff; 
She  rather  seem'd  inclined  to  fat — 
An  Indian's  feather  deckt  her  hat ; 
An  iiome-made  necklace — not  of  pearl-** 
Adorn'd  the  neck  of  nature's  girl, 
And  on  her  breast  a  knot  she  bore 
Of  flowers  a  little  stain'd  by  war  ; 
Upon  her  shoulders  hung  a  bow 
With  which  she  would  a  hunting  go 
Whenever  humor,  whim,  or  chance 
Inclined  her  to  her  savage  haunts 
To  scour  the  waste,  or  climb  the  hill, 
And  have  diversion,  at  her  will. 

For  such  a  nymph,  in  such  attire ; 
I  saw  the  suitors,  all  aspire  ; 
I  heard  them  speak  in  courtly  style, 
I  saw  them  happy  in  her  smile 
Each  glance  encouraged  all  they  meant, 
They  hoped  her  words  express'd  —consent ;— • 
Each  thought  he  all  her  love  possess'd, — 
But  she  no  fond  return  confessed. — 

They  wish'd  to  clasp  her  in  their  arms* 
They  saw  in  her  a  thousand  charms ; 
No  single  female  trait  they  miss'd 
Tkat  did — or  never  did     exist : 
*  Of  independence* 


48  FRENEAU'S  POEMS, 

The  flowers  that  near  her  bosom  glow'd, 
Allured  their  loves  to  that  abode 
Where' all  was  fresh,  and  all  was  rare, 
And  all  was  heaven  that  centred  there. 

Freed  from  a  foreign  parent's  charge  ; 
She,  independent,  nm-d  at  large  ; 
Shr,  now  had  broke  his  locks  and  keys, 
Or  rlosed  the  gates,  and  paid  her  fees  : — 
HE  from  the  first  had  used  her  hard ; 
A  mother  too !  with  small  regard 
Had  turn'd  her  oft' to  do  her  best, 
When  grown  too  weak  to  hold  her  fast* 

Now,  which  of  all  this  suitor  train, 
COLUMBIA,  shall  thy  favor  gain  ? — 
Of  each  that  for  possession  sues, 
Do,  tell  me  which  o;  all  you  chobse  ? 

Proud  of  his  vast  extended  reign. 
His  floating  empire  on  the  main, 
With  hatred  !•>  affection  turn'd 
The  briton  for  her  favors  burn'd. 

With  bearish  grasp  he  squeezed  her  hand, 
And  growFd  out — **  slave — at  your  command- — 
**  Although  I've  hugg'd  you,  black  and  blue 
"  I  would  our  ancient  love'  renew  !" 

She  thought  his  stylo  by  much  too  coarse  ; 
She  would  not  yield  her  heart  to  force  : 


THE  POLITICAL  RIVAL  SUITORS.  4D 

*  Give  me,'  said  she,  *  ray  ships  again, 
"  My  hosts  imprison' d  on  the  main, 

*  And  you  may  dangle  in  my  train. 

*  I  have  been  wrong'd,  and  baseiy  so  ; 

*  Where  rancor  is,  can  friendship  glow  ? 

*  Much  less  that  heaven- descended  flame 

*  That  you  know  not — nor  will  I  name 

*  With  arms  of  love  would  you  embrace 

*  The  heroine  of  a  gallant  race, 

4  When,  in  your  heart  the  furies  join 

*  To  spoil  and  plunder  all  that's  mine — 

*  Before  affection  can  return 

'  My  tears  will  flow,  and  you  must  mourn.' — • 
She  spoke  no  more,  nor  yea,  nor  nay 
But,  frowning,  look'd  a  different  way. 

The  dane,  the  dutehman,  and  the  swede 
At  distance  eyed  the  angry  maid  ; 
The  russian,  bred  in  frost  and  snow, 
Felt  in  his  breast  strange  ardor  glow  ! 

So  dull,  in  these,  did  passions  move 
She  cry'd,   *  They  are  not  marie  for  love  ! 

*  These,  heavy  formal  and  demure 
4 1  can't  esteem,  but  may  endure. 

*  If  from  your  stores  you  have  to  spare 

*  Some  stacks  of  hemp,  or  iron  ware  ; 

*  Or,  if  upon  your  soil  it  grows 

*  What  we  have  not — you  may  dispose. 

fe 


50  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

'  Of  what  your  merchants  have  to  sell , 
4  So,  bring  it  here — and  ail  is  well : 
4  We'll  give  you  something  in  exchange — 
'  And  mutual  intercourse  arrange — 

*  Your  commerce  may  our  own  improve— - 

*  But  this  is  not  the  trade  of  love  !' 

The  Spaniard  grave,  with  cloak  and  sword. 
Some  favors  from  the  nymph  implored, 
And  hoped  that  for  the  sake  of  gold 
And  silver,  from  Potosi  rolPd, 
She  would  admit  his  fond  embrace 
And  give  his  love  the  foremost  place. 

Vain  were  his  tears  and  coaxing  art, 
She  could  not  bear  a  jealous  heart. 
She  said,  *  my  friend,  you  sleep  too  sound— 
'  You  are  both  formal  and  renowri'd, — 
4  Where'er  the  sun  displays  his  beam 

*  From  Madrid  to  La  Plata's  stream  j 
'  From  th<?nce  extending  to  Peru, 

*  You  travel  far— and  who  but  you  1 — 

*  Ah  vagrant !  why  so  fond  to  roam  ? 

*  I  like  my  lovers  best  at  home. 

'  Throughout  the  ocean  of  the  west 

'  Your  sons,  your  subjects,  are  oppressed .' 

4  You  wear,  besides,  the  monkish  gown, 

*  And  that  I  hate,  of  all  things  known — 
'  Go  seek  some  widow  to  your  mind  ; 
'You're  doating,  old,  reserved,  unkind — 
4  A  chain  you  drag  where'er  you  go — 

*  A  lover  with  a  chain  ! — I  vow. 


THE  POLITICAL  RIVAL  SUITORS.        51 

*  I  would  not  risk  that  clanking  chain 

*  For  all  your  mexican  domain. 

*  Go,  find  some  widow,  wrinkled,  old, 

*  I  love  the  young,  the  free,  the  bold.' 

The  turk,  himself,  to  engage  her  love 
From  Asia's  coasts  began  to  move  : 
He  touch'd  his  nose  npon  her  cheek 
And  many  an  effort  made  to  speak  : 
His  head  was  with  a  turban  graced 
A  zone  of  scarlet  wrapp'd  his  waist, 
And  from  his  shoulders,  flowing  down, 
The  breezes  kiss'd  Mahomet's  gown  : 
The  sandals  on  his  feet  were  seen 
With  sapphires  studded,  blue  and  green, 
And,  all  embroidered,  on  his  breast, 
He.  wore  a  costly  crimson  vest ; 
Despotic  sway  was  in  his  port, 
His  manners  were  from  Selim's  court ; 
And  with  a  stately  step  he  strode, 
Each  gesture  in  the  eastern  mode. 
Still  on  his  brow,  remain'd  the  frown 
Descended  from  the  tartar  crown — 
Nor  said  he  much — but  half  in  jest, 

*  Hoped  he  might  court  her,  with  the  rest.' 

*  Oh  no !'  she  cried,  *  it  will  not  do  ! 
6  I  cannot  link  with  such  as  you — 

*  What  want  I  from  your  distant  shore  ? 
4  Your  prophet  I  cannot  adore — 

4  What  visions  on  your  fancy  fly 

*  What  means,  I  pray,  that  sleepy  eye  ? 


FRENEAIT'S  POEMS. 

'  Your  visage  is  a  swarthy  pale 

4  You  look,  as  though  you  were  in  jail : 

*  Oh,  sir  !  in  drugs  I  do  not  deal, 

*  And  you  have  little  else  to  sell, 

*  Or  little  else,  demanded  here  ; 

4  Your  opium,  too,  is  very  dear, 

*  And,  H' imported  o'er  the  deep, 

4 1  fear  would  put  me  soon  to  sleep  : 

'  A  sleepy  love  I  grant  to  none, 

4  So,  take  your  leave,  and  pray  be  gone.* 

The  frenchman  came,  with  leering  eye, 
And  from  his  breast  hove  many  a  sigh ; 
Spoke  much,  and  loud,  of  favors  past, 
And  swore  *  his  love  would  ever  last ; 
4  That  once  from  ruin  he  had  saved 

*  And  many  a  danger  for  her  braved ; 

*  Had  snatch'd  her  from  the  british  grip, 

*  When  Britain  came,  with  many  a  ship, 
4  And  many  a  legion,  to  destroy 

4  The  world's  last  hope— and  his  first  joy.s 

She  dropt  some  tears  for  what  he  said, 
But  thought  it  was  no  time  to  wed : 

*  And,  if  a  secret  1  may  tell,' 
Continued  thus  the  western  belle, 
4  My  gallic  lad,  I  love  you  well — 

4  And  I  would  grant  you  all  you  ask ; 
4  But  I  have  many  a  heavy  task, 
4  And  many  an  action  to  perform, 
4  To  march,  and  weather  many  a  sterm 


THE  POLITICAL  RIVAL  SUITORS.        53 

*  Before  the  day  of  leisure  comes 

*  From  warring  hosts  and  beating  drums,—* 

*  But  still  observe  me,  you're  the  man ! 
'  And,  sir,  I'll  grant  you  ALL  i  CAN. 

4  But  that  is  mere  platouic  love  ! 
'.No  other  fires  my  bosom  move  t 

*  I  am  the  mistress  of  mankind  ; 

*  To  me  the  world  is  all  assign' d, 

*  To  favor  all  the  most  I  can ; 

*  Such  is  my  purpose,  and  ray  plan.' 

One  lover,  yet,  remain'd  behind, 
The  awkwardest  of  all  mankind, 
Of  modest,  thoughtful,  grave  demeanor, 
Who,  to  that  hour,  had  never  seen  her, 
Of  stature  tall,  erect,  and  slim, — 
He  stay'd  for  her  to  come  to  him  ! 

*  He  came,'  he  said,  '  from  To-aug-fao, 
4  The  only  country  that  he  knew 

*  On  this  world's  surface  worth  the  owning  : 

*  Where  men  are  rich,  and  very  cunning  :' 
He  said,  *  he  never  went  a  courting, 

4  All  came  to  him  that  wanted  sporting  : 
4  He  held  his  quarters  at  Macou, 

*  And  further,  much,  he  could  not  go ; 

*  And,  if  she  would  not  meet  him  there, 
4  Why — very  well — he  did  not  care— 

*  Perhaps  twas  best  to  stay  at  home  : 

*  But,  if  she  loved  him,  she  might  come." 

She  smiled  at  such  a  strange  address, 
And  hardly  could  his  meaning  guess,; 


51  FRENEAU'S  POEMS, 

But  answer' d  thus — *  my  honest  friend, 

*  I  hope  you're  at  your  journey's  end ; 

*  But  if  again  you  homeward  go 

*  And  safe  arrive  at  To-ang-foo, 
'  As  I  exist — upon  ray  life, 

'  I'll  send  you  an  aceomplish'd  wife  !* 

Then  thus  to  all  her  suitors  cry'd, 
4  I  wish  not  yet  to  be  a  bride  : 
'  Whoe'er  would  in  my  eyes  excel, 
4  The  secret  is,  to  use  me  well ; 

*  If  you  would  in  my  bosom  find 

*  The  treasure  that  enslaves  mankind, 

'  Take  not  my  ships,  seize  not  my  men, 
'  As  some  have  done — and  you  know  when* 

*  Perhaps  at  last  the  time  may  come, 
'•  With  wrinkled  face  and  toothless  gum, 
4-  That  I  from  virtue's  rules  may  part, 

*  Betray  at  last  the  fickle  heart ; 
4  That  I*,  a  dotard,  like  the  rest, 

*  May  feel  strange  passions  in  my  breast^ 
*•  May  take  some  miscreant  to  my  bed 

*>  With  rotten  shins  and  broken  head, 
4  Before  a  dozen  lovers  fall, 

*  4-nd  be  the  common  hag  of  all.* 


(     55     ) 

PREFATORY  LINES  TO  A  PERIODICAL  PUB 
LICATION. 


Wherever  this  volume  may  chance  to  be  read 
For  the  feast  of  good  humor  a  table  I  spread ; 
Here  are  dishes  by  dozens  ;  whoever  will  eat 
Will  have  no  just  cause  to  complain  of  the  treat. 

If  the  best  of  the  market  is  not  to  be  had 

I'll  help  you  to  nothing  that's  seriously  bad ; 

To  sense  and  to  candor  no  place  I  refuse, 

Pick  here  and  pick  there,  and  wherever  you  choose, 

If  I  give  you  a  frolic  I  hope  for  no  fray  ; 

My  style  I  adapt  to  the  taste  of  the  day, 

The  feast  of  amusement  we  draw  from  all  climes 

The  best  we  can  give  in  a  run  of  hard  times. 

The  guest,  whom  the  pepper  of  satire  may  bite 
Is  wrong,  very  wrong,  if  he  shows  us  his  spite ; 
Should  a  fit  of  resentment  be-ruffle  his  mind, 
Sit  still,  I  would  tell  him,  be  calm  and  resigned. 

In  the  service  of  freedom  forever  prepared, 

We  have  done  our  endeavor  thr  goddess  to  guard  ; 

This  idol,  whom  reason  should  only  adore, 

And  banish'd  from  Europe,  to  dwell  on  our  shore, 


6  FRENEAU'S  POEMS, 

i 

Ito  a  country  like  this,  exalted  by  fame, 
The  trade  of  an  author  importance  may  claim 
Which  monarchs  would  never  permit  them  to  find, 
Whose  views  are  to  chain  and  be-darken  the  mind. 

Ye  sons  of  Columbia  !  our  efforts  befriend  ; 
To  you  all  the  tyrants  of  Europe  shall  bend 
Till  reason  at  length  shall  illumine  the  ball 
And  man  from  his  state  of  debasement  recall. 

Republics  of  old,  that  are  sunk  in  the  dust, 
Could  once,  like  our  own,  of  their  liberty  boast ; 
Both  virtue  and  wisdom  in  Athens  appear'd, 
Each  eye  saw  their  charms,  and  all  bosoms  revered. 

But  as  virtue  and  morals  fell  into  disgrace 
Pride,  splendor,  and  folly  stept  into  their  place  ; 
Where  virtues  domestic  no  longer  were  known, 
Simplicity  lost,  and  frugality  flown. 

Where  the  virtues,  that  always  a  republic  adorn, 
Were  held  in  contempt,  or  were  laugli'd  into  scorn, 
There,  tyrants  and  slaves  were  the  speedy  effect 
Of  virtue  dishonor' d  orfall'nto  neglect : 

Then  tyrants  and  slaves,  the  worst  plagues  of  this  earth, 
From  the  lapse  of  good  manners  were  hatrh'd  into  birth ; 
And  soon  the  base  maxim  all  popular  grew, 
And  allowed,  that  the  many  were  made  for  the  few, 

From  the  fate  of  republics,  or  Athens,  or  Rome, 
Tis  time  we  should  learn  a  sad  lesson  at  home— 


PREFATORY  LINES,  &c.  .r>7 

From  their  faults  and  their  errors  a  warning  receive, 
And  steer  from  the  shoals  where  they  both  found  a 
grave. 

Columbians !  forever  may  freedom  remain, 
And  virtue  for  ever  that  freedom  maintain  ; 
To  these,  all  attracting,  all  views  should  submit. 
AH  labors  of  learning,  all  essays  of  wit. 

Tis  time  a  new  system  of  things  was  embraced 
To  prevail  on  a  planet  so  often  debased ; 
As  here,  with  our  freedom,  that  system  began, 
Here,  at  least  keep  it  pure — for  the  honor  of  mats. 


OX  A  LADY, 


JfOW     DECEASED,     THAT    HAD      BEEN    BOTH    DEAF    AND 
BLIND    MANV    YEARS. 

Why  such  anxious  care  for  curing  ? 

Are  your  sufferings  past  enduring  ? 

Doctors  for  the  eye  and  ear  ; 

Dearest  madam, 

You  have  had  'em, 
Had  them  cail'd  from  year  to  year. 


58  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Is  there  pleasure  in  the  seeing 
Many  a  wretched,  helpless  being 
Begging  bread  from  door  to  door  ? 

Wants  so  many 

Of  a  penny 
Of  those  who  rarely  handle  more. 

Are  the  heavens  a  sight  engaging  ? 
There  I  see  the  lightnings  raging, 
Angry  clouds  in  all  directions  ; 

Sulphur  blazing, 

Tempests  raising  ; 
These  would  give  you  sad  reflections. 

These  are  freaks  of  rugged  nature  ; 
Such  a  dame,  with  such  a  feature, 
You  are  blest  in  not  beholding  : 

Comets  glaring, 

Wars  declaring ; 
These  are  plagues  of  nature's  moulding. 

But  the  little  world  around  us  ; 
Has  its  mischiefs,  to  astound  us ; 
Half  your  town  is  in  a  pother  ; 

Churches  burning, 

Females  mourning 
Some  a  husband,  some  a  brothei7. 

Some  lament  a  lost  estate, 
Some,  the  follies  of  the  great : 
Of  these  ills  you  are  unknowing  : 


A  LADY, 

All  the  clamor 

Sledge  and  hammer, 
Bells  a-ringing,  storms  a-blowing, 
All  the  bustle  you  defy. 
All  is  darkness  to  your  eye  ! 

To  your  ear  we  cannot  tell 
What  is  doing,  ill  or  well. 
All,  no  doubt,  is  for  the  better — 
You  behold  no  starving  debtor, 
Orphan,  widow,  in  distress  : 
You  regard  no  cryers  bawling 
Sweeps,  from  tops  of  chimnies  squalling, 

Ships  unmooring, 

Cannon  roaring, 

Husbands  snoring — 
Ah  !  tis  best  you  hear  it  not. 

Troops  parading, 

Lawyers  pleading, 
These,  and  more,  are  all  forgot : 

Bear  your  losses, 

And  your  crosses, 
Be  resigned — it  is  your  lot. 

Thus,  deprived  of  senses  two, 

All  the  world  will  pity  you — 

All  the  world  is  in  the  wrong  : — 

For  the  intellectual  light, 

Shines,  increasing  through  your  night, 

All  the  nobler  powers  of  mind 

Grow  angelic  and  refined, 


FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

And  the  bright  celestial  ray 
Turas  your  darkness  into  day. 
What  reflections  on  the  past ! 
Virtue  brightening  to  the  last  J 
Not  a  murmur,  not  a  sigh ! 
Your  heaven  begins  before  you  die  ! 
Thus  decreed  Olympian  Jove, 
Chancellor  of  the  courts  above. 


ON  THE  WAR, 


PROJECTS*  WITH   THE    REPUBLIC   OF-   FRANCE. 


The  cause  that  rests  on  reason's  ground, 
Shall  potent  through  the  world  be  found, 
Mankind  must  yield  to  that  decree 
Which  humbles  pride  and  tyranny. 

O'er  this  wide  globe  what  darkness  broods. 
What  misery,  murder,  wars  and  feuds  !~- 
Does  man  deserve  the  solar  light 
While  he  performs  the  deeds  of  night  ? 


ON  THE  WAR, 

When  to  the  gates  of  modern  Rome 
We  see  the  gallic  legions  come, 
Their  triumphs  should,  in  honor,  be 
To  make  them  men,  and  make  them  free. 

In  these  new  wars  new  views  we  trace, 
^Tot  tetters  for  the  human  race, 
And,  France,  where'er  you  dart  your  rays 
Old  superstition's  reign  decays. 

But  look  again  ! — what  myriads  join 
The  v-.ist  reform  to  undermine  ! 
What  labor,  bribes,  and  deep-laid  schemes 
To  quench  the  sun,  and  reason's  beams  ! 

5jhall  these  succeed  ?  and  wiL1  that  sun 
Continue,  still,  his  race  to  run 
O'er  scenes  that  he  must  blush  to  see 
Disorder,  chains,  and  tyranny  ? 

Must  systems,  still,  of  monstrous  birth, 
Enslave  mankind,  deform  this  earth  ? 
No  ! — to  the  question  answers  fate, 
These  efforts  come  an  age  too  late. 

In  such  a  system  to  combine, 
Columbia,  can  the  wish  be  thine  ! 
Could  such  a  thought  assail  your  heart, 
To  take  that  base,  ungrateful  part. 

From  Britain's  yoke  so  lately  freed 
she  her  hosts,  her  legions  lead 
F 


62  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

To  crush  that  power,  which  jointly'gain'd 
And  once  her  sinking  cause  sustain'd  ? 

From  all  true  hearts  be  banish'd  far 
The  thought  of  so  profane  a  war — 
A  curse  would  on  her  arms  attend 
And  all  her  well-earn'd  honors  end. 

Fortune  no  more  your  toils  would  crown, 
Your  flag  would  fall  before  her  frown  ; 
No  gallant  men  the  foe  would  dare, 
No  Greenes  no  Washingtons  appear; 

No  chiefs,  that  check'd  the  pride  of  kings 
On  Monmouth's  plains — at  Eutaw  springs ; 
But  blundering  hordes,  not  brave  or  warm, 
With  broken  heart,  and  nerveless  arm, 

Would  sail,  to  attack  your  gallic  foe, 
Would  strive  in  vain  a  cause  t'o'erthrow 
Which,  sink  or  not,  will  live  in  fame, 
While  Europe  can  one  patriot  claim. 


(     63     ) 

THE  MISTAKE ; 
A  MODERN  SHORT  STORY. 

We  tell  a  tale  that  means  no  harm, 
And  hope  it  will  not  give  alarm 
Or  make  our  readers  feel  too  warm. 

It  is  a  modern  tale,  we  own, 
Which  folks  may  read,  or  let  alone, 
Just  as  they  leisure  have — or  none. 

There  was  a  man,  of  dismal  face, 
Whom  many  thought  a  man  of  grace 
Who  walk'd  through  life  a  sober  pace. 

He  wore  a  suit;  of  homespun  black, 
And,  on  occasion,  had  a  clack 
That  put  our  ears  upon  the  rack. 

But,  whether  short  or  whether  tall, 
Or  whether  Peter  named,  or  Paul, 
We  think  it  matters  not  at  all. 

Full  twcnl}*  years  this  man  in  black 

(Perhaps  a  dozen  times  a  week) 

Had  pray'd  the  pope  might  goto  wreck. 


64  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

He  pray'd,  that  for  his  doings  past 
Old  anti-Christ  might  have  a  Mast 
And  to  the  dogs  be  thrown  at  last. 

This  was  the  substance  of  his  prayer, 
(And  more  we  many  a  time  did  hear, 
As  dealt  about  fro  in  year  to  year.) 

*  That  man  of  sin  !  chastise  him  well, 
4  Who  docs  against  the  truth  rebel, 

*  And  heaven  itself  presumes  to  sell : 

'  This  monster  of  the  triple  crown, 

*  Ye  crows,  devour  him  very  soon ; 

4  Good  lord,  we  pray  thee,  ding  hiia  doon  : 

'  That  man  of  sin,  who  lives  at  Rome, 
'  Where  good  St.  Peter  once  did  come, 

*  Without  a  house,  without  a  home  ! 

*  That  man  of  sin,  who  keeps  a  show 
6  At  Peter's  church  for  high  and  low, 
'  And  makes  the  nations  kiss  his  toe  ; 

*  Whose  bell  for  idol  worship  rings ; 

'  Whose  stirrup  must  be  held  by  kings 
4  While  he  upon  his  prancer  springs  : 

6  Good  lord  !  destroy  him,  we  desire, 

*  And  with  him,  too,  the  monk  and  friar 
1  With  their  own  faggot  ana  their  fire/ 

\  •troifkh  repression,  beat  hurs  dcwn. 


THE  MISTAKE. 

Hie  good  man's  prayer,  at  length  was  heard  ; 
Victorious  France  to  Rome  repair'd 
And  Bonaparte  his  standard  rear'd. 

The  pontiff  saw,  with  wild  dismay, 
The  hero  come,  the  artillery  play, 
And  armies  marching  in  array. 

The  romans  made  a  feeble  stand 
Dear  liberty  !  against  your  band  ; 
The  pope  came  suppliant,  cap  in  hand, 

And  said,  "  I  yield  with  all  submission  r 

Indeed  I'm  in  a  lost  condition, 

Jtnd  now  would  mako  my  last  petition ; 

Take  all  I  have  but  let  me  go, 
My  keys  I  render  up  to  you, 
Which  are,  in  fact,  the  devil's  due.'* 

So  off  lie  went,  to  starve  and  see 
Old  Rome  by  heretics  made  free 
From  holy  fraud  and  villany. 

Meantime  the  man  that  pray'd  so  long 
Against  the  pope,  and  all  his  throng, 
£j,w  things  were  rather  going  wrong, 

And  to  his  passion  gave  a  vent — 

— **  Why — this  is  not  the  thing  I  meant, 

All  this  is  not  with  my  consent, 

F  2 


6C  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

I  did  not  wish  the  pope  should  fall 

By  hand  of  unbelieving  ganl, 

Who  hates  us  deacons,  pope,  and  all ! 

1  wish'd  him  scorch'd  by  fires  from  high, 
By  sudden  vengeance  from  the  sky — 
So  I  explained  the  prophecy. 

Xow  from  tliis  day,  I  tel!  ye  plain, 

I '11  pray  and  preach  my  might  and  main 

The  pope  may  get  his  place  again  ! 


COMMERCE  : 


That  internal  commerce  only,  promotes  the  morals  of  a 
country  situated  like  America,  and  prevents  its  growth: 
cf  luxury  j  and  its  consequent  vices. 


To  every  clime,  through  every  sea 

The  bold  adventurer  steers  ; 

In  bounding  barque,  through  each  degree 

His  country's  produce  bears — 

How  far  more  blest  to  stay  at  home 

Than  thus  on  Neptune's  wastes  to  roam. 


COMMERCE.  67 

Where  fervors  melt,  or  frosts  congeal— 
Ah  ye  !  with  toils  and  hardships  worn, 
Condemned  to  face  the  briny  toara; 
Ah  !  from  such  fatal  projects  turn 
The  wave- dividing  keel, 

The  product  of  the  furrow  'd  plain— 

TransferrM  to  foreign  shores, 

To  pamper  pride  and  please  the  vain 

The  reign  of  kings  restores  : 

Hence,  every  vice  the  sail  imports, 

The  glare  of  crowns,  the  pomp  of  court?, 

And  WAR,  with  all  his  crimson  train  ! 

Thus  man  designed  ta  till  the  ground, 

A 'stranger  to  himself  is  found — 

Is  sent  to  t.oil  on  yonder  wave, 

Is  made  the  dreary  ocean's  sport, 

Since  commerce  first  to  avarice  gave 

To  sail  the  ocean  round. 

How  far  more  wise  the  grave  Chinese, 
Who  ne'er  remotely  stray, 
But  bid  the  world  surmount  the  seas 
And  hard-earn'd  tribute  pay. 
Hence,  treasure  to  their  country  flows 
Freed  from  the  danger,  and  the  woes 
Of  distant  seas  and  dreary  shores. 
There  commerce  breeds  no  foreign  war  ; 
At  home  they  find  their  wants  supplied, 
And  ask,  why  nations  come  so  far 
Te  set^k  superfluous  stores  ? 


<58  FRENEAU'S  POEM£. 

Americans !  why  half  neglect 

The  culture  of  your  soil  ? 

From  distant  traffic  why  expect 

The  harvest  of  your  toil  ? 

At  home  a  surer  harvest  springs 

From  mutual  interchange  )f  things, 

Domestic  duties  to  fulfil — 

Vast  lakes  within  your  realm  abound 

Where  commerce  now  expands  her  sail, 

Wlii-re  hostile  navies  are  not  found 

To  bend  vou  to  their  will. 


LINES 

written  in  a  french  novel,  Adelaide  and  DurvuL 

Charm'd  with  her  loves,  attend  ye  blooming  belle* 
While  Adelaide  her  tender  story  tells  ; 
She  early  bent  to  love's  despotic  sway, 
Confess'd  her  flame,  and  gave  to  nature,  way  : 
She  saw — she  loved  ;  by  custom  uncontrol'd 
She  to  the.  swain  her  melting  passion  told  : 
He  awed  by  rules  that  love  illegal  made 
Fled  from  her  fondness,  and  no  love  repaid. 
Where'er  h^  fl^d,  the  amorous  nymph  pursued 
To  jails,  to  dungeons,  and  to  deserts  rude: 


WRITTEN  IN  A  FRENCH  NOVEL.        69 

Not  awed  by  fame,  nor  heartless  from  despair, 
She  had  her  all,  if  she  but  met  him  there. 
Such  is  the  strength  of  love's  almidity  sway- 
That  binds,  controls,  and  bids  the  world  obey. 


HUMAN  FRAILTY. 

Disasters  on  disasters  grow, 

And  those  which  are  not  sent,  we  make; 
Thr  good,  we  rarely  find  below 

Or  in  the  search,  the  road  mistake. 

The  object  of  our  fancied  joys 
With  eager  eye  we  keep  in  view : 

Possession,  when  acquired,  destroys 
The  object,  and  the  passion  too. 

The  hat  that  hid  Belinda's  hair 
Was  once  the  darling  of  her  eye ; 

Tis  now  dismissed,  she  knows  not  where ; 
Is  laid  aside,  she  knows  not  why. 

Life  is  to  most  a  nauseous  pill, 
A  treat  for  which  they  dearly  pay : 

Let's  lake  the  good,  avoid  the  ill, 
Discharge  the  debt,  and  walk  away. 


{     70     ) 

THE  HEROINE  OF  THE  REVOLUTION/ 

To  the  men  in  power. 

Ye  congress  men  and  men  of  weight, 

Who  fill  the  public  chairs, 

And  many  a  favor  have  conferred 

On  some,  unknown  to  Mars; 

And  ye,   who  hold  the  post  of  fame, 

The  helmsmen  of  our  great  affairs, 

Afford  a  calm,  attentive  ear 

To  hf>r  who  handled  sword  and  spear, 

A  heroine  in  a  bold  career, 

Assist  a  war-worn  dame. 

With  the  same  vigorous  soul  inspired 
\         As  Joan  ff  Arc.  of  old, 

With  zeal  against  the  briton  fired, 
Her  spirit  warm  and  bold, 
She  march'd  to  face  her  country's  foes 
Disguised  in  male  attire  : 

*  On  December  28,  1797,  Deborah  Gannet  presented  a  peU 
tion  to  congress  for  a  pension, in  consideration  of  services  rendered 
during  the  whole  of  the  American  Revolutionary  war,  in  the  rank 
of  a  common  soldier  in  the  regular  armies  of  the  United  States. 
The  above  lines  were  written  on  this  occasion,  at  the  request  of 
i)he  heroine.  It  is  needless  to  say,  she  had  a  competency  bestow^ 
<*fl  on  her  during  her  natural  Hfo. 


THE  AMERICAN  HEROINE.        7J 

Where'er  they  prowl'd  through  field  or  towa 
With  steady  step  she  follow'd  on  ; 
Resolved  the  conflict  to  sustain, 
She  met  them  on  the  hill,  the  plain, 
And  hostile  to  the  english  reign, 
She  htiri'd  the  blasting  fire. 

A'ow  for  such  generous  toils  endured, 

Her  day  of  warfare  done, 

In  life's  decline  at  length  reward 

This  faithful  amazon  : 

She  asks  no  thousands  at  your  hand?, 

Though  raark'd  with  many  a  scar  ; 

She  asks  no  share  of  indiau  lands, 

Though  lands  you  have  to  spare  : 

But  something  in  the  wane  of  days 
To  make  her  snug,  and  keep  her  warm, 
A  cottage,  and  the  cheery  blaze, 
To  shield  her  from  the  storm  ; 
And  something  to  the  pocket  too, 
Your  bounty  might  afford, 
Of  her,  who  did  our  foes  pursue 
With  bayonet,  gun,  and  sword. 

Reflect  how  many  tender  ties 

A  female  must  forego 

Ere  to  the  martial  camp  she  flies 

To  meet  the  invading  foe  : 

How  many  bars  has  nature  placed, 

And  custom  many  more, 


75J  FRENEAU'S  POEMS, 

Lest  slighted  woman  should  be  graced 

With  trophies  sain'd  in  war. 

All  these  she  nobly  overcame, 

And  scorn'd  a  censuring  age, 

Join'd  in  the  ranks,  her  road  to  fame, 

Despised  the  briton's  rage  ; 

An    men,  who,  with  contracted  mind, 

All  arrogant*  condemn 

An*,  make  disgrace  in  woman  kind 

What  honor  is  in  them. 


ON  HAPPINESS, 

a$  proceeding  from  the  practice  of  virtue , 


This  truthf  upon  the  soul  impressed, 
Ha*  been  by  every  age  confess' d, 
That  in  the  course  of  human  things 
Felicity  from  virtue  springs. 

Wht  re  vice  prevails,  or  baseness  sway? 
Remorse  and  pain  the  fault  n  pays, 
The  man  oi  vi;-.f  -vis  no  resource, 
But  even  in  pleasure  ftnds  a  cv- 


HAPPINESS. 

If  happiness  can  be  sincere 

A  virtuous  conduct  makes  it  here, 

That  moral  track  to  man  assign'  d 

A  transcript  from  the  all-perfect  mind. 

Should  virtue  sometimes  fail  of  bliss, 
Plunged  in  misfortune's  dark  abyss, 
Still,  in  the  event  she  would  not  fall, 
But  rise,  triumphant  o'er  it  all. 

Should  life's  whole  course  replete  with  ill, 
To  virtue  prove  a  bitter  pill  ; 
Another  life  has  heaven  designed 
Where  she  her  due  rewards  will  find, 


Nay,  though  through  life  perplex'd  and 
And  though  no  other  life  remain'd  ; 
A  life  well  spent  itself  would  prove- 
A  due  reward  from  HIM  above. 

And  to  be  conscious  we  have  done 
The  worthy  part,  though  frown'd  upon, 
Can  every  seeming  ill  destroy 
And  grief  and  sadness  change  to  joy, 


G 


FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 


ON     THE  ABUSE  OP     HUMAN  POWER, 


as  exercised  over  opinion. 

What  human  power  shall  dare  to  bind 
The  mere  opinions  of  the  mind  ? 
Must  man  at  that  tribunal  bow 
Which  will  no  range  to  thought  allow, 
But  his  best  powers  would  sway  or  sink, 
And  idly  tells  him  what  to  THINK. 

Yes  !  there  are  such,  and  such  are  taught 
To  fetter  every  power  of  thought  ; 
To  chain  the  mind,  or  bend  it  down 
To  some  mean  system  of  their  own, 
And  make  religion's  sacred  cause 
Amenable  to  human  laws. 

Has  human  power  the  simplest  claim 
Our  hearts  to  sway,  our  thoughts  to  tame ; 
Shall  she  the  rights  of  heaven  assert, 
Can  she  to  falsehood  truth  convert, 
Or  truth  again  to  falsehood  turn, 
And  at  the  test  of  reason  spurn  ? 

All  human  sense,  all  craft  must  fail 
And  all  its  strength  will  nought  avail* 


THE  ABUSE  OF  HUMAN  POWER.        75 

When  it  attempts  with  efforts  blind 
To  sway  the  independent  mind, 
Its  spring  to  break,  its  pride  to  awe, 
Or  give  to  private  judgment,  law. 

Oh  impotent !  and  vile  as  vain, 
They,  who  would  native  thought  restrain  ! 
As  soon  might  they  arrest  the  storm 
Or  take  from  fire  the  power  to  warm, 
As  man  compel,  by  dint  of  might, 
Old  darkness  to  prefer  to  light. 

No  !  leave  the  mind  unchain'd  and  free, 

And  what  they  ought,  mankind  will  be, 

No  hypocrite,  no  lurking  fiend, 

No  artist  to  some  evil  end, 

But  good  and  great,  benign  and  just, 

As  God  and  nature  made  them  first. 


TO  A  NIGHT-FLY, 

APPROACHING  A  CANDLE. 

Attracted  by  the  taper's  rays, 
How  carelessly  you  come  to  gaze 
On  what  absorbs  you  in  its  blaze  \ 


> 


FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

O  Fly  !  I  bid  you  have  a  care : 
You  do  not  heed  the  danger  near  ; 
This  light,  to  you  a  blazing  star. 

Already  you  have  scorch'd  your  wings 
What  courage,  or  what  lolly  brings 
You,  hovering  near  such  blazing  things 

Ah  me  !  you  touch  this  little  sun- 
One  circuit  more  and  all  is  done ! — 
Now  to  the  furnace  you  are  gone  I— 
Thus  folly  with  ambition  join'd, 
Attracts  the  insects  of  mankind, 
And  sways  the  superficial  mind  : 


Thus,  power  has  charms  which  all  admire, 
But  dangerous  is  that  central  fire— 
If  you  are  wise  in  time  retire. 


ON  THE  DEPARTURE  OF  PETER  PORCU 
PINE,  FOR  ENGLAND, 

A  bird  of  night  attends  the  sail 
That  now  towards  us  turns  her  tail 
With  Porcupine,  escaped  from  jail. 


PORCUPINE'S  DEPARTURE.  77 

0  may  the  sharks  enjoy  their  bait : 
He  came  such  mischief  to  create 
We  wish  him  not  a  better  fate. 

This  hero  of  the  pension'd  pen 
Has  left  our  shores,  and  left  his  den 
To  write  at  home  for  english  men. 

Five  thousand  dollars,  we  may  guess, 

Have  made  his  pension  something  less 

So,  Peter  left  us, — in  distress. 

He  writ,  and  writ,  and  writ  so  long* 
That  sheriff  came,  withwril  more  strong, 
And  he  went  off;  and  all  went  wrong. 

May  southern  gales  that  vex  the  main, 
Or  boreas,  with  his  whistling  train 
Make  Peter  howl  and  howl  again. 

1  hear  him  screech,  I  hear  him  shout ! — 
The  storm  has  put  his  Rush  lightf  out — 
I  see  him  famish' d  with  sour  crout. 

•  For  several  years  he  published  newspapers,  and  other  peri 
odical  works  in  Philadelphia  which  h:ui  a  vast  circulation;  the 
whole  scope  and  tendency  of  which  was,  as  is  wel]  remembered, 
to  render  the  republican  institutions'  of  this  country  contemptible, 
as  well  as  odious  to  the  people ;  and  by  discontenting  them  with 
their  government,  to  open  the  way  for  tiie  introduction  of  a  mo- 
Barchical  system.  He  was  thought  to  be  a  pensioner  of  the  en 
glish  government ;  but  whether  such  or  not,  is  uncertain. 

4  A  weekly  pamphlet  publication,  in  which  the  political  as 
G2 


78  FREISTEAU'S  POEMS. 

May  on  the  groaning  vessel's  side 

All  Neptune's  ruffian  strength  betry'd 

Till  every  seam  is  gaping  wide. 

And  while  the  waves  about  him  swell 
May  not  one  triton  blow  the  shell 
(A  sign  at  sea  of  doing  well)  : 

i 

But  should  he  reach  the  british  shore, 

(The  land  that  englishmen  adore) 
One  trouble  will  he  find  and  more  : 

His  pen  will  run  at  sueh  a  rate, 
His  malice  so  provoke  ike  great, 
They  soon  will  drive  him  out  of  date. 

With  broken  heart  and  blunted  pen 
lie*!!  sink  among  the  little  men, 
Or  scribble  in  some  Newgate  den. 

Alack,  alack  !  he  might  have  stay'd 
And  followed  here  the  scribbling  trad<% 
And  lived  without  the  royal  aid. 

But  democratic  laws  he  hated, 
Our  government  he  so  he-rated 
That  his  own  projects  he  defeated. 


well  as  private  character  of  Dr.  Rush,  and  other  persons  of  celebri 
ty,  was  vilified  to  the  lowest  degree  of  scurrility,  malignancy  an 
falsehood. 


PORCUPINE'S  DEPARTURE. 

He  took  his  leave  from  Sandy-Hook, 
And  parted  with  a  surly  look. 
That  all  observed  and  few  mistook. 


ODE  TO  GOOD  FORTUNE. 


ut  tu  Fortunam 
Sienos  te,  Celse  feremus- 


Objert  of  all,  in  every  age 

By  prudrnt  men  adored, 
By  farmer,  lawyer,  sailor,  sage, 

Mechanic,  beggar,  lord  : 

Thou  great  first  wish  !  well  understood, 

But  not  for  all  design'd  ; 
Bestow'd  alike  on  bad  and  good, 

Since,  fortune  you  are  blind  ; 

Who  hold  us  in  a  doubtful  state 

To  bear  the  human  lot 
And  hiding  hoak  -ritiniithe  bait, 

Left  free  to  bite  or  not. 


FREKEAU'S 


Wliat  wise  man  tell  us  should  be 
We  scarce  know  how  to  do  ; 

One  tells  me,  not  the  world  to  shim, 
One  tells  me,  not  pursue. 

What  money  you,  dear  fortune,  g&e 

Let  knaves  not  steal  away, 
For  we,  as  well  as  they,  must  live, 

And  debts  as  surety  pay.  * 

Let  not  to  one  voracious  maw 

Thy  dainty  things  be  fed  ; 
And  we,  while  others  beef-steaks  gnaw,, 

Go  supperless  to  bed. 

Let  not  a  proud,  insulting  band, 

With  gormandizing  grin 
Disperse  starvation  through  the  land, 

And  make  us  steal  and  sin. 

Since  we  must  eat,  the  means  bestotv 
The  boarding-house  to  pay  ; 

If  we  must  starve,  then  may  we  go 
Where  work  finds  better  pay, 

Save  us  alike  from  pigcon-pye, 

Or  stomach  empty  quite  ; 
Our  cook  will  that,  no  doubt,  deny\ 

This-  would  destroy  outright. 

Help  us  for  hungry  folk  to  feel 
ngry  folk  we  see  ; 


ODE  TO  GOOD  FORTUNE.  81 

May  I  with  sharpers  learn  to  deal 
As  sharpers  deal  with  me. 

Lean  though  I  am,  yet  firm  and  sound, 

(Since  bones  have  ijeea  my  fare) 
Direct  me  where  i'at  pork  is  seen 

And  apple-dumplings  rare. 

This  day  be  bread  and  cheese  my  lot, 

With  glass  of  apple  wine ; 
To  i  Borrow,  if  roast  pigs,  or  not, 

Is  no  concern  of  mine. 

O  thou,  whose  frowns  are  no  disgrace, 

But  yet  whose  smiles  I  prize, 
Do,  let  me  have  some  humble  place, 

But  not  to  grandeur  rise— ~ 


ON  A 

CELEBRATED  PERFORMER  ON  THE  VIOLIN, 

who,  as  it  was  said,  went  out,  in  the  year  1 797,  to  excite 
discontents  and  insurrections  in  the  western  country, 
particularly,  in  Ohio,  Kentucky,  and  Tennessee. 

Musician  of  the  west  !  whose  vast  design 
Schemes  our  new  states  with  England  to  combine ; 


82  FUENEAU'S  POEMS. 

How  vain  the  hope,  with  violin  and  boir, 
Such  feeble  arms,  to  work  internal  wo  ! 
How  weak  the  attempt  our  union  to  divide 
With  not  a  sword  or  pistol  at  your  side  ! 
Not    ven  a  drum  your  engineer  employs  : — 
He's  right — a  drum  would  blast  the  plot,  by  noise  : 
All  must  be  done  in  midnight  silence,  all 
Your  plans  must  ripen  or  your  projects  fall. 
Unknown,  unseen,  till  in  the  destined  hour 
Descends  the  stroke  of  trans-atlantic  power  ! 

By  music's  note  to  sway  the  western  wild 

Indeed  is  new  ; — we  heard  Hand  we  smiled. 

In  cold  December's  iron-hearted  reign 

Woultl  you  with  blushing  blossoms  deck  the  plain  ; 

Would  you  with  sound  immure  the  THIRTEEN  STARS, 

Or  plant  a  garland  on  the  front  of  Mars  ? 

To  sound,  not  sense,  once  brutes,  they  say,  advanced. 

When  Orpheus  whistled,  fauns  and  satyrs  danced— 

You  are  no  Orpheus — and  it  may  be  true 

He  play'd  some  tunes  that  are  unknown  to  you. 

Hopes,  such  as  yours,  on  cat-gut  who  would  place  ; 

On  tenor,  treble,  counter,  or  the  bass  : 

Who  arm'd  with  horse-hair,  hopes  a  world  to  wia 

Who  gains  dominion  from  a  violin  ? 

Such  if  there  was,  in  times,  the  lord  knows  when, 

He  must  have  been  at  least  the  first  of  men — 

But  now — the  world  would  have  not  much  to  prize 

In  such  a  warfare  where  no  soldier  dies  : 

Thus  would  it  say — by  sad  experience  taught, 

*  Oh  !  may  we  never  fight  as  these  have  fought ! 


ON  A  CELEBRATED  MUSICIAN.          83 

*  These  to  the  charge  with  Thespian  arms  advanced, 

*  And  when  they  should  have  fought,  the  soldiers 

danced ; 

*  They  had  no  drums,  they  felt  no  martial  flame, 

*  But,  cold  as  Christmas,  to  the  conflict  came  !' 

My  dreams  present  you  thrumming  on  your  string 

Playing  at  proper  stands,  God  save  the  king  ! 

I  see  you  march,  a  pedlar  with  his  pack, 

And  that  poor  fiddle  swung  athwart  your  back, 

(Like  Reynard  from  some  hen-roost  hurrying  home 

With  plundered  poultry  for  the  feast  to  come) 

Trudging  the  wilds,  on  bold  adventures  bent, 

The  woods  at  once  your  coverlet  and  tent, 

To  fierce  rebellions  our  back-woods  to  call — 

The  attempt  how  mighty  !  and  the  means  how  small. 

Amphion  once,  the  classic  stories  say, 

When  on  his  organ  he  began  to  play, 

So  soft,  so  sweet,  so  melting  where  his  tunes 

That  even  the  savage  rocks  danced  rigadoons, 

The  trees,  themselves,  with  frantic  passions  fired 

Leap'd  from  their  roots  and  every  note  admired  : 

Quitting  the  spot,  where  many  a  year  they  grew 

Quick  to  the  music  sprung  the  enchanted  crew, 

Form'd  o'er  his  head  a  sun-repelling  power 

And  bow'd  their  shadowy  heads  to  music's  power. 

If  what,  this  moment,  some  relate  be  true 
Still  greater  wonders  are  reserved  for  you. 
Your  music,  far,  all  Amphion's  art  exceeds, 
Nat  trees  and  rocks,  but  provinces  it  leads. 


84  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

All  Alleghany  capers  to  the  sound, 
And  southward  moves  to  meet  the  iberian  bound  5 
Kentucky  hears  the  soul-enlivening  notes 
And  on  the  artist  and  his  music  doats  ; 
Remote  Sanduskie  spreads  her  eager  wings, 
And  wild  Miami  with  the  concert  rings  ; 
Tiptoe,  for  flight,  stands  every  hill  and  tree 
From  Huron's  shores  to  savage  Tennessee  ; 
Arthur  St.  Clair  might  soon  its  influence  feel ; 
But  Arthur  knows  no  music — but  of  steel : 
Arthur  St.  Clair  attends,  with  listening  ears, 
And  when  the  purpose  of  your  march  appears, 
Such  music  only  will  excite  his  rage, 
He'll  come,  and  drive  you  from  your  dancing  stage ; 
Cut  every  string,  the  bridge,  and  sound-board  seize, 
By  your  own  cat-gut  hang  you  to  the  trees, 
And  bid  you  know,  too  late,  It  is  no  jest 
To  play  rebellion's  musio  to  the  west. 


REFLECTIONS 

on  doctor  Perkins1  metallic  points,  or  tractors.* 

Some  think  our  planet  hastens  to  decay, 
And  dread  to  see  it,  with  a  head  of  grey, 

*  Doctor  Perkins,  author  of  a  fanciful  speculation,  much  talk-? 
ed  of  as  well  as  practised  about  this  time  (1798)  by  which  thcg 
doctor  undertook  to  cure  all  sorts  of  diseases  by  metallic  tractioiwj 


PERKINS'  METALLIC  POINTS.  8 

(If  head  it  has,  as  Faustus  try'dto  prove 
With  power  to  think,  and  in  its  orbit  move  : 
And  some  assert,  we  think,  with  too  much  heal, 
It  is  a  mighty  animal,  complete) 
If  old  or  young,  then  here  one  comfort  lies, 
The  older  it  becomes,  it  grows  more  wise  : 
*To  this  dull  clod  of  earth  no  more  confined, 
Fearless  we  mount,  and  sail  upon  the  wind  ; 
Even  females,  now,  to  gay  balloons  suspended 
Soar  to  the  skies,  and  think  their  follies  ended  : 
Your  Blanchanls  to  superior  regions  move, 
And  grow  familiar  with  affairs  above  ; 
O'er  seas  and  mountains  steer  the  f  thereal  course, 
Heedless  of  sky-men,  storois,  or  empty  purse. 

Magicians,  chy mists,  all  that  night-cap  train 
Whose  moon,  too  long,  has  sicken'd  in  her  wane  : 
The  age  is  come  that  gives  them  back  to  day, 
And  sufferings  past  shall  past  neglect  repay. 
On  science  bent,  a  modern,  scheming  race 
All  nature's  movements  to  their  centre  trace; 
In  all  her  sports  they  see  some  wise  design, 
Her  meanest  ore  they  soften  and  refine, 
By  instant  aid  all  human  ills  they  cure, 
Old  age  protract,  or  endless  life  secure  ; 
All  pains,  all  plagues,  are  by  a  touch  relieved, 
Death  changed  to  life,  and  even  the  devil  deceived, 

PERKINS  !  what  verse  is  equal  to  your  praise 
Whose  hocus-pocus  from  the  dead  can  raise; 
Pains  in  the  head,  or  iick<  Us  in  the  joints 
Henceforth  shall  yield  to  your  metallic  points  :. 
H 


S6  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Palsies  and  gouts  shall  at  your  mandate  fly 

As  Satan  does  when  holy  water's  nigh  : 

All  colics,  asthmas,  all  the  dismal  train 

That  Milton  saw  a  lazar-house  contain,* 

All  shall  be  heal'd  when  you,  with  tractors  keen, 

Scratch,  for  the  cure  of  ailments,  through  the  skin  ' 

Thou  Esculapiusofa  wondering  age, 

Machaon,  Galen,  Hippocratian  sage, 

Cj.n  we  too  much  extol  that  daring  art 

That  bids  the  doctor,  with  his  drugs,  depart : 

No  more  with  pills  our  stomachs  shall  be  loaded, 

Dortors,  behold  your  practice  quite  exploded  ; 

By  one  keen  point  of  st»  el,  and  one  of  brass, 

Boorhaave  himself  is  proved  t'  have  been  an  ass, 

Fall  sick  who  may,  all  potion,  drug,  or  pill, 
Sh«ill  yield  to  Perkins,  with  superior  skill  ; 
Not  one,  of  all  the  esculapian  race, 
Not  one  shall  near  us  come,  or  take  your  place 
By  magic  tractor,  and  its  powerful  aid 
We  rise  superior  to  the  havoc  made  : 
Though  fevers  rage,  if  Perkins  once  you  name, 
H^'Il  curb  their  fury  and  allay  their  flame. 

Even  mental  ills  shall  cease  at  your  approach, 
Pride,  vanity,  and  longings  for  a  coach  : 
If  rightly  stroked,  some  nymphs  that  we  might  name,. 
Who,  shopping,  pilfer  without  fear  or  shame, 
Shall,  when  your  influence  they  are  made  to  fee!, 
Forget  the  sad  propensity,  to  steal : 

*  See  Paradise  Lost 


PERKINS'  METALLIC  POINTS.  37 

Touch'd  by  these  magnets  dead  men  will  revive, 
Old  bachelors  ibr  frisky  widows  strive; 
Maidens,  averse  to  men,  be  taught  to  love, 
And  wives,  condemn'd  as  barren,  fertile  prove. 
Dulness  itself  shall  quit  the  human  brain 
And  deafening  scolds  from  Billingsgate  abstain ; 
And  Shakspeare's  play,  tho'  planu'd  to  nature  true, 
Has  no  such  cure  for  Taming  of  the  Shrew. 


PUBLIUS  TO  POLLIA. 


Supposed  to  have  been  written  during  a  cruizing 
expedition** 


If  I  escape  the  dangers  of  the  main 

And  heaven  restores  me  to  your  arms  again, 


&  This  little  poem  is  founded  on,  and  the  idea  taken  from  a 
•collection  of  genuine  letters  that  appeared  several  years  ago,  in 
§ome  of  the.  London  Magazines,  and  that  passed  between  the  two 
.<&aracters,  Fabling  and  Pollia.— Publius  was,  at  the  time,  a  firs** 


88  FREIVEAU'S  POEMS. 

No  thought,  ambitions,  to  increase  m3r  store 
Shall  tempt  me  to  the  seas  again  for  more. 

Bi»t  peaceful,  happy  in  some  rural  shade 
No  storms  to  vex  me,  and  no  foes  to  dread. 
To  whispering  zephyrs  I  would  care  resign 
And  feel  thrice  happy,  in  a  love  like  thine  . 
A  decent  house,  on  rustic  model  plann'd, 
In  onier  kept  by  Margarita's  hand  ; 
A  thrifty  garden,  next,  should  be  my  care, 
A  barn  well  garuish'd,  and  an  orchard  fair; 
Books  for  instruction,  or  delight,  design'd, 
(Books  may  be  call'd  provision  for  the  mind] 
My  private  room  should  usefully  adorn, 
And  study  be  the  employment  of  the  morn; 
Justly,  indeed,  may  they  be  counted  sage, 
Who  by  the  dead  in  form  *d,  digest  their  page. 

A  stock  of  nine,  the  heart  of  man  to  cheer, 
Should  grace  my  vaults — with  cyder  sound  and  eleai 
Jamaica's  best,  and  home-brew'd  bottled  beer  : 
Nor  should  these  blessings  indiscreetly  flow, 
Which  meanly  used,  become  a  dangerous  foe  ; 
But  when  the  neighboring  parson,  or  the  squire 
On  visits  ceme,  to  smoke  beside  my  fire, 
Or.  when  the  sun's  more  cheering  rays  delight ; 
And  western  winds  and  shady  trees  invite, 

lieutenant  of  a  brilish  ship  of  war,  and  afterward?  Avell  known 
be  the  celebrated  capt.  Edward  Thomson.  Tlie  njmpli  hadh 
residence  at,  or  near  Portsmouth,  iu  England. 


PUBLIUS  TO  POLLIA.  3» 

In  sweet  retreat  and  social  converse  warm, 
An  extra  bottle  could  not  do  us  harm  ; 
And,  such  are  the  resistless  charms  of  wit, 
Where  reason  guides  and  friendly  tempers  hit, 
Tis  not  mere  Bacchus  tempts  to  a  delay, 
But  wit,  enchanting  wit.  prolongs  our  stay. 

When  from  the  unsocial  sea  return'd  once  more, 
I  meet  the  pilot  near  the  long-lost  shore 
Soon  shall  your  swain  to  woodland  haunts  retire 
And  the  wiJd  music  of  the  groves  admire, 
Ear^y,  in  summer,  tread  the  morning  dew, 
Anu  be  supremely  blest,  if  blest  with  you. 

Why  did  I  leave  your  fond,  your  kind  embrace 
To  wander  with  this  absent  thoughtless  race, 
This  nan  tic  tribe,  who  far  from  country  roam, 
And  scarce  a  day  enjoy  the  charms  of  home  \ 
No  cares  had  I,  but  you  those  cares  repaid, 
Calm  was  my  sleep,  and  quiet  every  shade  : 
To  all  my  griefs  my  Pollia  lent  a  sigh, 
To  all  I  said  1  met  a  kind  reply ; 
Heaven  smiled  benignant,  nature  breathed  her 

sweet-', 
Nor  war,  nor  tumult  knew  these  blest  retreats! 

To  rural  haunts  return'd,  ah  !  how  could  I 
The  unwonted  labors  of  a  rustic  try  ? — 
Some  acts,  even  there,  stern  reason  deems  amiss, 
That  cloud  the  picture  of  romantic  bliss  : 
How  could  I,  tender  to  the  fleecy  kind 
In  their  last  gasp  a  selfish  interest  find  ? 
112 


00  FRENEAU'S 


The  stately  ox,  intended  Cor  the  plough, 

Shall  his  bold  front  to  me,  his  murderer  bow  ?»- 

Is  this  the  base  reward  for  all  his  pain 

-Who  turn'd  the  glebe  and  multiplied  the  strain. 

Qli  mnn  ungrateful,  who  the  weapon  rears  — 

Confess  thy  shame,  and  give  a  vent  to  tears  ! 

O  man  ungenerous  !  w  here's  thy  reason  fled, 

Is  pity  vanished  or  compassion  dead  ! 

Fa'r  be  from  me,  and  mine,  these  scenes  of  blood, 

To  seize  from  nature  such  unlicensed  food. 

The  lieecy  kind,  whose  grateful  vestments  warm, 

All  innocent,  who  mean  or  know  no  harm  ; 

The  wakeful  bird,  that  hails  the  approach  of  day 

All,  all  to  insatiate  passion  fall  a  prey, 

That  rural  life,  which  I  yrt  distant  view, 
With  Uow  much  ardor  <>oes  my  sonl  pursue  I 
Lured  by  the  pleasures  I  may  hope  to  find, 
What  wild  ideas  rush  upon  my  mind  ! 
Far  from  the  arms  of  all  that's  dear  and  fair, 
On  barren  seas  I  sail,  a  slave  to  care  ; 
No  blossoms  here  their  grateful  odors  shed, 
Hr-re  trees  are  masts,  and  sails  for  leaves  are  sprea 
No  shrubs,  no  (lowers  in  blushing  bloom  dispense 
Their  charming  fragrance  on  my  ravish*  d  sense, 
Nature,  indeed,  is  grand  and  awful  here, 
|>ut  nature  still—  and  stiil  she  prompts  my  fear. 

O,  Pollia,  write  me  —  watch  the  parting  sail 
And  trust  my  heaven,  yeur  letters—to  the  galq  : 
To  nature  trust  —  her  breeze  will  waft  it  sure, 
Your  other  image  I  must  long  adore  I 


PUBLIU9  TO  POLLIA.  91 

With  artful  hand  her  painted  scenes  she  drew, 
But  with  most  art  when  she  created  you  : 
Wise  are  her  works,  and  prudent  every  plan  ; 
But,  sure,  she  meant  not  these  abodes  tor  man, 
Who,  courting  danger,  born  to  he  unblest, 
Disdains  the  cottage,  and  sweet  haunts  of  rest, 
Tempts  polar  seas,  and  dares  the  Iceland  gale, 
Prepared  to  strike  the  hyperborean  whale, 
Or,  slave  to  monarchs,  quits  th'  attractive  land 
For  the  sad  honors  of  a  sea  command. 


SERIOUS  MENACE  ; 


BOTANY  BAY  AND  NOOTKA  SOUND. 

ANSWER    TO    THE    CO31MINATIOMS   Of   A  PERSECUTING 
ROYALIST. 

Last  week  we  heard  a  king's  man  say, 
Do  tell  me  where  is  Botany  Bay  ? 
There  are,  quoth  he,  a  meddling  few. 
That  sliatlgo  there — and  we  know  who, 


92  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

This  Botany  Bay  is  in  an  isle 
Removed  from  us  twelve  thousand  mile, 
There  rogues  are  banisird,  to  atone 
For  roguish  things  in  England  done. 

Ye  vultures,  here  on  sufferance  fed, 
Who  curse  the  hand  that  gives  you  bread, 
Rot-all  your  threats,  or,  by  the  way, 
You'll  find  us  act  a  serious  play. 

The  haughty  prince  that  England  owns, 
To  make  more  room  for  royal  sons, 
Has  given  the  hint,  I  would  suspect — 
And  are  you  one  of  his  ELECT  ? 

Ye  busy  tribe,  of  harpy  face, 
•    In  search  of  power,  in  search  of  place, 
Ye  rancorous  hearts,  who  build  your  all 
On  royal  wrongs  and  freedom's  fall, 

This  have  we  seen,  and  well  we  know, 
Each  sou  of  freedom  is  your  foe, 
And  these  you  would,  unheard,  convey 
To  places  worse  than  Botany  Bay. 

Be  cautious  how  you  talk  so  loud — 
Above  your  heads  there  hangs  a  cloud, 
That,  bursting  with  explosion  vast, 
May  scatter  vengeance  in  its  blast ; 
And  send  you  all,  on  th'  devil's  dray, 
A  longer  road  than — Botany  Bay, 


BOTANY  BAY  AIVD  NOOTKA  SOUND.    93 

Another  threat  alarm'd  us  ranch — 

(Indeed,  we  hourly  meet  with  such) — 

A  c  ckney  said,  but  spoke  it  low, 

For  fear  tlie  street  his  mind  should  know  ; 

'*  And  is  there  no  sedition  act  ? 

("  Tis  almost  time  to  doubt  the  fact,) 

"  By  which  this  gabbling  crew  are  bound 

"  The  nearest  way  to  IVootka  Sound  ?" 

Can  you  but  smile  ! — who  would  have  thought 

Tii  t  they  who  writ,  who  march'd,  who  fought 

For  many  a  year,  and  little  got 

But  liberty,  and  dearly  bought 

Must  now  away 

With  half  their  pay, 
And  seek  on  ocean's  utmost  bound 
Their  chance  to  starve  at  Nootka  Sound  ! 

This  Nootka  Sound,  so  far  remote, 
Would  make  us  sing  a  serious  note, 
If  it  be  true  what  travellers  teil 
That  there  a  race  of  natives  dwell 
Who,  when  they  would  their  brethren  treat 
And  give  them  a  regale  of  meat 
Unchain  their  prisoners  from  the  den, 
And  scrape  the  bones  of  bearded  men. 

God  save  us  from  so  hard  a  fate  ! 

As  to  be  spitted,  soon  or  late ; 

It  is  a  lot  that  few  admire — 

So  let  us  for  a  while  retire  ; 

And  live  to  see  some  traitors  drown'd 

I'  the  deepest  swash  of  Nootka  Sound, 


34  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 


UNIFORMITY  AND  PERFECTION 

OP 
NATURE. 


On  one  fix'd  point  all  nature  moves, 
Nor  deviates  from  the  track  she  loves ; 
Her  system,  drawn  from  reason's  source, 
She  scorns  to  change  her  wonted  course. 

Could  she  descend  from  that  great  plan 
To  work  unusual  things  for  man, 
To  suit  the  insect  of  an  hour — 
This  would  betray  a  want  of  power, 

Unsettled  in  its  first  design 
And  erring,  when  it  did  combine 
The  parts  that  form  the  vast  machine, 
The  figures  sketch'd  on  nature's  scene. 

Perfections  of  the  great  first  cause 
Submit  to  no  contracted  laws, 
But  iill-snlficbnt  all-supreme, 
Include  no  trivial  views  in  them. 


PERFECTION  OF  NATURE,  95 

Who  looks  through  nature  with  an  eye 
That  would  the  scheme  of  heaven  descry, 
Observes  her  constant,  still  the  same, 
In  all  her  laws,  through  all  her  frame. 

No  imperfection  can  be  found 
In  all  that  is,  above,  around, — • 
All,  nature  made,  in  reason's  s^ght 
Is  order  all,  and  all  is  right. 


TRANSLATION  OF  GRAY'S  ODE, 

Written  at  ike  grand  Chartreuse?* 

O  tu  seven  Relligio  loci ! — #c. 

Thou  genius  of  this  sacred  place 
Who'er  thou  art,  a  hand  I  trace 
In  all  around,  a  power  supreme 
That  rears  the  woods,  propels  the  stream : 

A  god  is  seen  where'er  I  rove 

Among  the  rocks,  as  through  the  grove : 

^  The  residence  of  a  religious  society  of  monks  on  the  summit, 
one  of  the  Alpine  mountains, in  Savoy, 


96  FRENEAU'S  POFMS. 

The  mountain  cliffs  declare  him  nigh, 
The  torrents  tumbling  from  the  sky  ; 

All  these  proclaim  almighty  power  : 
Thi.-se  pointed  rocks,  that  o'er  me  tower ; 
More  of  a  deity  impart 
Than  all  the  sculptured  temple's  art. 

O  come  !  and  Jet  my  weaned  mind, 
My  toilsome   steps  that  solace  find 
Retirement  gives  :  in  life's  decay 
Let  scenes,  like  these,  my  toils  repay. 

Should  fortune  still  my  wish  deny, 
If  <!oom'd  once  more  the  world  to  try, 
At  n  <:st,  attend  my  humble  prayer 
And  let  me  this  retirement  share, 

Where  noisy  crowds,  or  party  rage 
Can  with  my  peace  no  warfare  wage, 
But  leave  me  safe,  and  leave  me  -ree 
From  courts,  and  life's  anxiety. 


97 


OCTOBER'S  ADDRESS, 


October  came  the  thirtieth  day  : 
And  thus  I  heard  October  say  j 

**  The  lengthening  nights  and  shortening  days 

Have  brought  the  year  towards  a  close, 
The  oak  a  leafless  bough  displays 
And  all  is  hastening  to  repose  ; 

To  make  the  most  of  what  remains 
Is  now  to  take  the  greater  pains. 

"  An  orange  hue  the  grove  assumes, 
The  indian-summer-days  appear  ; 
When  that  deceitful  summer  comes 
Be  sure  to  hail  the  winter  near  : 
If  autumn  wears  a  mourning  coat 
Be  sure,  to  keep  the  mind  afloat. 

*'  The  flowers  have  dropt,  their  blooms  are  gone. 

The  herbage  is  no  longer  green  ; 
The  birds  are  to  their  haunts  withdrawn, 
The  leaves  are  scattered  through  the  plain  ; 
The  sun  approaches  Capricorn, 
And  man  and  creature  looks  forlora, 

;t  Amidst  a  scene  of  such  a  cast, 
The  driving  sleet,  or  falling  snow, 
I 


FREIYE  ATI'S  POEMS. 

The  sullen  cloud,  the  northern  blast, 
What  have  you  left  for  comfort  now, 
When  all  is  dead,  or  seems  to  die 
That  cheer' d  the  heart  or  charm' d  the  cy 

"  To  meet  the  scene,  and  it  arrives^ 

(A  scene  that  will  in  time  retire) 
Enjoy  the  pine — while  that  remains 
You  need  not  want  the  winter  fire. 
It  rose  unask'd  for,  from  the  plain, 
And  when  consumed,  will  rise  agaiir, 

"  Enjoy  the  glass,  enjoy  the  board, 
Nor  discontent  with  fate  betray, 
Enjoy  what  reason  will  afford, 
Nor  disregard  what  females  say  ; 
Their  chat  will  pass  away  the  time, 
When  out  of  cash  or  out  of  rhyme. 

44  The  cottage  warm  and  cheerful  heart 

Will  cheat  the  stormy  winter  night, 
Will  bid  the  glooms  of  care  depart 

And  to  December  give  delight." - 

Thus  spoke  October — rather  gay, 
Then  seized  his  staff,  and  walk'd  away 


ON  THE 


JNIVERSALITY  AND  OTHER  ATTRIBUTES 


CfOD  OF  NATURE. 

All  that  we  see,  about,  abroad, 
What  is  it  all,  but  nature's  God  ? 
In  meaner  works  discovered  here 
No  less  than  in  the  starry  sphere. 

In  seas,  on  earth,  this  God  is  seen; 
AH  that  exist,  upon  him  lean  ; 
He  lives  in  all,  and  never  stray'd 
A  moment  from  the  works  he  made  :.. 

His  system  fix'd  on  general  laws 
Bespeaks  a  wise  creating  cause  ; 
Impartially  he  rules  mankind, 
And  all  that  on  this  globe  we  find. 

Unchanged  in  all  that  seems  to  change, 
Unbounded  space  is  his  great  range  ; 
To  one  vast  purpose  always  true, 
No  time,  with  him,  is  old  or  new. 


FKENEAU'S  POEMS. 

In  all  the  attributes  divine 
Unlimited  perfections  shine  ; 
In  these  en  wrapt,  in  these  complete, 
All  virtues  in  that  centre  meet. 

This  power  who  doth  all  powers  transcend, 
To  all  intelligence  a  friend, 
Exists,  the  greatest  and  the  best  * 
Throughout  all  worlds,  to  make  them  blest 

All  that  he  did  he  first  approved 
He  all  things  into  being  loved  ; 
O'er  all  he  made  he  still  presides, 
For  them  in  life,  or  death  provider 


STANZAS 


grp  AS  ALIEN,  WHO  AFTER  A  SERIES  OF 

EMIGRATED     TO  I  HE     SOUTIJ    WESTERN  COUNTRY- 
—  1799.— 

Remote,  beneath  a  sultry  star 

Where  Mississippi  flows  atar 

I  see  you  rumbling,  God  knows  where, 

*  .  —  ,  --  Jupiter,  optimus,  maximus.—  —  CTCEEO 


AN  ALIEN, 

Sometimes,  beneath  a  cypress  bough 
When  met  in  dreams,  with  spirits  low, 
I  long  to  tell  you  what  I  know. 

How  matters  go,  in  this  our  day, 
When  monarchy  renews  her  sway, 
And  royalty  begins  her  play. 

I  thought  you  wrong  to  come  so  far 
Till  you  had  seen  our  western  star 
Above  the  mists  ascended  clear. 

I  thought  yon  right,  to  speed  your  sails 
If  you  were  (bud  of  loathsome  jails, 
And  justice  with  uneven  scales. 

And  so  you  carae  and  spoke  too  free 
And  soon  they  made  you  bend  the  knee, 
And  lodged  you  under  lock  and  key. 

Discharged  at  last,  you  made  your  peace 
With  all  you  had,  and  left  the  place 
With  empty  purse  and  meagre  face. — 

You  sped  your  way  to  other  climes 
And  left  me  here  to  teaze  with  rhymes 
The  worst  of  men  in  worst  of  times. 

Where  you  are  gone  the  soil  is  free 
And  freedom  sings  from  every  tree, 
**  C0ine  quit  the  crowd  and  live  with  me  !- 
I   2 


FUENFAU'S  POEMS, 

Where  I  must  stay,  no  joys  are  found ; 
Excisemen  haunt  the  hateful  ground, 
And  chains  are  forged  tor  all  around. 

The  scheming  men,  with  brazen  throat. 
Won  la  set  a  murdering  tribe  afloat 
To  hang  you  for  the  lines  you  wrote, 

If  you  are  safe  beyond  their  rage 
Toank  heaven,  and  not  our  ruling  sage, 
Who  shops  us  up  in  jail  and  cage. 

Perdition  seize  that  odious  race 
Who,  aiming  at  distinguished  place, 
Would  life  and  liberty  efface ; 

With  iron  rod  would  rule  the  ball 
And,  at  their  shrine,  debase  us  all, 
Bid  devils  rise  and  angels  fall. 

Oh  wish  them  ill,  and  wish  them  long 

To  be  as  usual  in  the  wrong 

In  scheming  for  a  chain  too  strong. 

So  will  the  happy  time  arrive 
When  coming  home,  if  then  alive. 
You'll  see  them  to  the  devil  drive. 


A  PROPOSED  NEGOTIATION 

«TH  THE  FRENCH    REPUBLIC,  AND  POLITICAL  RE 
FORMATION — 1799. 

Thus  to  the  verge  of  battle  brought 
Reflection  lends  a  happy  thought, 
Agrees,  half  way,  the  gaul  to  meet, 
Prepared  to  fight  him  or  to  treat. 

Fatigued  with  long  oppression's  reige, 
Tis  time  to  break  oppression's  chain  ; 
One  gem  we  ravish 'd  from  one  crest 
And  time,  perhaps,  will  take  the  restr 

The  revolutions  of  this  age 
(To  swell  the  late  historian's  page) 
Are  but  old  prospects  drawing  near, 
The  out-set  of  a  new  career. 

What  Plato  saw,  in  ages  fled, 
What  Solon  t  •  the  athenians  said, 
What  fired  the  Vritish  Sidney's  page, 
The  Solon  of  a  modern  age, 


FRENEAU'S  POFMS. 

Is  now  unfolding  to  our  view ; 
A  system  liberal,  great,  and  new, 
Which  from  a  long  experience  springs 
And  bodes  a  better  course  of  things. 

And  will  these  STATES,  whose  beam  ascend^ 
On  whose  resolve  so  much  depends  ; 
Will  these,  whose  Washington,  or  Greene; 
Gave  motion  to  the  vast  machine ; 

Will  these  be  torpid,  careless  found 
To  help  the  mighty  wheel  go  round ; 
These,  who  brgan  the  immortal  strife* 
And  liberty  preter'd  to  life. 

If  not  the  cause  of  France  we  aid 
Yet  never  should  the  word  be  said 
That  we,  to  royal  patrons  prone, 
Made  not  the  cause  of  man  our  own. 

Could  Britain  here  renew  her  sway, 
And  we  a  servile  homage  pay, 
The  coming  age,  too  proud  to  yield, 
Would  drive  her  myriads  from  the  field. 

Time  will  mature  the  mighty  scheme, 
WTe  build  on  no  platowic  dream; 
The  light  of  truth  shall  shine  again, 
And  save  the  democratic  reign. 


f     106    ) 


ON   THE 


RELIGION  OF  NATURE. 


The  power,  that  gives  with  liberal  hand 
The  blessings  man  enjoys,  while  here, 
And  scatters  through  a  smiling  land 
The  abundant  products  of  the  year  ; 
That  power  of  nature,  ever  bless'd, 
Bestow'd  religion  with  the  rest. 

Born  with  ourselves,  her  early  sway 
Inclines  the  tender  mind  to  take 
The  path  of  right,  fair  virtue's  way 
Its  own  felicity  to  make. 
This  universally  extends 
And  leads  to  no  mysterious  ends. 

Religion,  such  as  nature  taught, 

With  a|l  divine  perfection  suits  ; 
Had  all  mankind  this  system  sought 

Sophists  would  cease  their  vain  disputes, 
And  from  this  source  would  nations  know. 
AH  that  can  make  their  heaven  below. 

This  deals  not  curses  to  mankind, 
Or  dooms  them  to  perpetual  grief, 


106  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

If  from  its  aid  no  joys  they  find, 
It  damns  them  not  for  unbelief; 
Upon  a  more  exalted  plan 
Creatress  nature  dealt  with  man- 
Joy  to  the  day,  when  all  agree 

On  such  grand  systems  to  proceed, 
Fiom  traud,  design,  and  error  free, 

Ami  which  to  truth  and  goodness  lead  : 
Then  persecution  will  retreat 
And  man's  religion  be  complete. 


INVASION  OF  ROME, 
IN  179G. 

Lo  !  to  the  gates  of  long  forgotten  Home 
Active  as  flame,  the  gallic  legions  come, 
While  pale  with  fear  to  their  despotic  waste* 
On  shortened  wing  the  austrian  army  hastes, 

When ,  consecrated  to  the  pagan  god 
The  silent  vestal  graced  his  dark  abode. 


THE  INVASION  OF  ROME,         10? 

Where  Caesars,  once,  in  awful  grandeur  Teign'd, 
Or,  Vandals  ruin'd  what  of  Rome  remained, 
Or  where,  excrescnce  of  a  later  age, 
The  mitred  pontiff  trod  religion's  stage, 
There  march* the  heroic  bands   that  bring  defeat, 
Or  bring  reform  on  superstition's  seat. 

And  may  their  march  to  honor's  purpose  tend 
May  each  new  conquest  all  the  past  transcend, 
Still  may  those  hosts  their  first  great  plan  pursue, 
And  honor,  freedom,  virtue  keep  in  view. 
Thus  taught ;  and  still  propitious  heaven  their  trust, 
A 11  past  mis-rule  shall  crumble  to  the  dust, 
Nor  will  saint  Peter,  more,  their  cause  regard, 
Lost  are  his  keys  and  every  gate  unbarr'd, 
No  sacred  reliques  from  some  saintly  grave, 
No  saint  Sebastian  shall  from  ruin  save  : 
All,  all  must  yield  ;  submissive  to  the  dart 
Of  Gaul's  firm  legions  led  by  Bonaparte, 
Who,  sent  by  heaven,  to  Rome's  disastrous  walls 
Loud  and  more  loud  for  his  last  victim  calls ; 
While  superstition's  dark  inveterate  train 
Turns  pale,  and  sickens  at  their  blasted  reign, 
And  hosts  reviving,  round  the  standard  throng, 
Bxnli,  aad  wonder  how  they  slept  so  long. 


t   «»   T 

Otf  THE 

ROYAL  COALITION  AGAINST   REPUB 
LIGAN  LIBERTY. 


Emperors  and  kings  !  in  rain  you  strive 
To  keep  the  royal  scheme  alive  ; 
The  age  is  come  that  shakes  your  thrones 
And  packs  you  up  among  dry  bones. 

The  power  that  bids  the  sceptre  fail* 
In  flowing  bowls  this  day  we  hail : 
We  saw  a  band  of  kings  unite, 
We  saw,  and  guess'd  that  all  was  right : 

That  native  strength  and  native  fire 
Would  bid  the  butchering  tribe  retire, 
Would  hurl  them  back  among  their  slaves 
To  hide  in  pits  or  skulk  in  graves. — 

In  these  new  STATES  the  flame  began, 
From  thence  to  France  it  kindling  ran, 
And  freedom's  fires  now  find  their  way 
Through  Europe,  like  the  solar  ray. 

Tis  this  that  hurls  all  despots  low, 
Aad  this  shall  make  the  proiuit.'st  bow. 


THF  COALITION  AGAINST  FRANCE.     10$ 

When  thoughtless  man  at  ast  has  found 
What  laws  have  crusli'd  him  to  the  ground, 

Thou  gallic  genius  !  urge  the  chase 

Till  what  is  call'd  the  ruling  race 

Have  changed  tlieir  note,  or  learn'd  to  reign — 

By  laws  that  reason  may  explain. 

We  can  no  royal  homage  pay, 
Nor  own  hereditary  sway  :  * 
Where  birth-right  sole  dominion  gave7 
there,  man  was  born  to  be  a  sla?e. 

So.  let  these  'yrant*  coalesce 
Till  reason's  rules  all  wrongs  redress, 
And  nature's  laws  to  man  unfold 
The  station  he  was  born  to  hold. 

We  grieve  to  see  them  thus  debased, 
Such  burthens  on  their  shoulders  placed, 
Such  demons  busy  on  the  scene 
To  keep  them  cjown  and  make  them  mean, 

How  could  they  rise,  „ when  lords  and  kings 
At  once  conspired  to  clip  their  win^s, 
When  every  art,  that  vice  can  find 
Is  practised,  to  pervert  the  mind. 

O  creatures  of  untoward  fate, 
O  kings,  who  must  reform,  though  late, 
Lay  wars,  and  wrath   and  strife  asicie, 
Let  reason  be  your  only  guide, 
K 


j  RENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Look  at  the  structure  of  the  brain, 
T::  it  something  which  commands  within* 
And  be  convinced  that  so  much  art 
"Was  meant  to  guide  and  sway  the  heart. 

Alas  !  alas !  what  broken  bones, 
"What  tailing  crowns,  demolish VI  thrones  ; 
O  v\  the  scorch'd  plain  the  cannon  plays. 
And  thousands  perish  in  the  blaze. 

Here  (will  some  pensive  traveller  say) 
Ht  re  reign'd  the  despot  of  a  day  ; 
Here  slaves  stood  crouching,  to  adore* 
But  wear  the  royal-badge  no  more  1 


ODE 


FOR   JULY   THE   FOURTH — 1799. 


Once  more,  our  annual  debt  to  pay 
We  meet  on  this  auspicious  day 
That  will,  through  every  coming  age, 
Columbia's  patriot  sons  engage. 


FOURTH  OF  JULY. 

From  this  1'air  day  we  date  the  birth, 
pi  freedom's  n.ign.  restored  to  earth, 
And  millions  learn,  to**  long  depraved, 
How  to  be  govern'd,  not  enslaved. 

Thou  source  of  every  true  delight 
Fair  peace,  extend  thy  sway, 

While  to  thy  temple  we  invite 
All  nations  on  this  day. 

O  dire  effects  of  tyrant  power  ! 
How  have  ye  darkeii'd  every  hour, 
And  made  those  hours  embitter'd  flow 
That  nature  meant  for  joys  below. 

With  sceptred  pride,  and  brow  of  awe 
Oppression  gave  the  world  her  law, 
And  man,  who  should  such  la*  disdain, 
Resigned  to  her  malignant  reign. 

Here  on  our  quiet  native  coast 
No  more  we  dread  the  warring  host 
That  once  alarm1  d,  when  Britain  rose, 
And  made  Columbia's  sons  her  foes. 

Parent  of  every  cruel  art 
That  stains  the  soul,  that  steels  the  heart, 
Fierce  war,  with  all  thy  bleeding  band, 
Molest  no  more  this  rising  land. 

.May  thy  loud  din  be  changed  for  peac<^, 
AM  human  wo  and  warfare  cease, 


FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

And  nations  sheath  the  sword  again 
To  find  a  long,  pacific  reign. 

Soon  may  all  tyrants  disappear 
And  man  to  man  be  less  severe ; 
T  e  ties  of  Jove  more  firmly  bind, 
Not  tetters,  that  enchain  mankind. 

But  virtue  must  her  strength  maintain, 
Or  short,  too  short,  is  freedom's  reign, 
And,  if  her  precepts  we  despise, 
Tyrants  and  kings  again  will  rise. 

No  more  an  angry,  plundering  race, 
M  ;>  man  in  every  clime  embrace, 
And  >ve  on  this  remoter  shore, 
Exult  in  bloody  wars  no  more. 

On  this  returning  annual  day 
M  iv  we  to  heaven  our  homage  pay, 
Hippy  that  he  re  the  time's  began 
That  made  mankind  the  friend  of  man!- 


113     } 


THE  REWARD  OF  INNOCENCE. 


Could  beauty,  virtue,  innocence,  and  love 
Some  spirits  soften,  or  some  bosoms  move. 
If  native  worth,  with  every  charm  combined, 
Had  power  to  melt  the  savage  in  the  mind, 
Thou,  injured  ELMA,  had  not  fallen  a  prey 
To  fierce  revenge,  that  seized  thy  life  away  ; 
Nor  through  the  glooms  of  conscious  night  been  led 
To  6nd  a  funeral  for  a  nuptial  bed, 
When  by  the  power  of  midnight  fiends  you  fell, 
Plunged  in  the  abyss  of  Manhattan-well. 

Detested  pit,  may  other  times  agree 
With  swelling  mounds  of  earth  to  cover  thee, 
And  hide  the  place,  in  whose  obscure  retreat 
Some  miscreant  made  his  ba:;e  design  complete. 

*  Gulielma  Sands  —the  unfortunate  event  alluded  to  in  these 
linos  took  place  within  a  mile  of  the  suburbs  of  New-York  in 
1802.  She  was  a:i  amiable  young  woman  of  the  quaker,  or 
friends  society,  and  fella  victim,  it  was  supposed,  to  the  jealousy 
of  two  lovers  ;  having  been  carried  from  her  home  in  a  winter's 
evening  in  a  sleigh,  under  some  pretence,  or  persuasion,  and  thrown 
into  a  well  of  water,  where  she  was  soon  afterwards  found  dead, 
in  a  mangled  condition,  and  appeared  to  have  been  beaten  and 
bruised  in  an  inhuman  manner,  previously  to  her  death.  A  se 
vere  legal  investigation  took  place,  but  no  discovery,  as  to  the 
real  author  of  the  murder  could  be  made,  nor  has  the  perpetrate* 
been  hitherto  discovered. 


114  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Thus,  with  oblivion's  wings  to  cover  o'er 

The  spot  which  memory  should  preserve  no  more. 

Murderer,    though  safe    from  legal    vengeance 

placed 

There  is  a  power  that  has  thy  footsteps  traced, 
There  is  a  power  the  vestige  to  pursue, 
Detect  your  crime,  and  the  dark  deed  review, 
Make  life  a  burthen,  every  hour  unblest, 
And  shed  remorse  through  your  tormented  breast. 
The  mangled  form  in  horrid  dreams  will  come 
Reproach  the  deed  and  antedate  your  doom, 
Haunt  all  your  walks,  where'er  you  go,  attend, 
And  scourge  the  murderer  to  his  journey's  end. 

Go  where  you  may,  your  steps,  wherever  found, 
Your  steps  imprint  dishonor  on  the  ground 
Give  all  the  stain  that  innate  baseness  can 
And  prostrate  all  the  dignity  of  man  : 
Haste  to  the  shadows  of  the  antarctic  pole 
And  with  you  take  the  shadows  of  the  soul, 
Where'er  you  halt,  no  doubt  a  curse  will  wait, 
And  plagues  impend,  and  feuds,  and  rancorous  hate 
The  heavens  in  black,  the  skies  with  clouds  will  lour 
And  angry  nature  round  your  hovel  roar. 

Retire  forever  from  the  abodes  of  men, 
And  howl  with  wolves,  base  brethren  of  the  den  : 
Turn'd  out  an  exile  from  the  human  race, 
Yourself  the  accuser,  and  their  worst  disgrace. 
Wiiile  soul,  or  conscience,  to  reflect  remains 
]Sot  one  calm  hour  shall  mitigate  your  pains. 


ON   THE 


EVILS  OF  HUMAN"  LIFE. 


To  him  who  rules  the  starry  spheres, 
No  evil  in  his  works  appears  : 
Man  with  a  different  eye,  surveys, 
The  incidents  in  nature's  maze  : 
And  all  that  brings  him  care  or  pain 
He  ranks  among  misfortune's  train. 

The  ills  that  God,  or  nature,  deal, 

The  ills  we  hourly  see,  or  feel, 

The  sense  of  wretchedness  and  wo 

To  man  may  be  sincerely  so  ; 
And  yet  these  springs  of  tears  and  sighs 
Be  heaven's  best  blessings  in  disguise. 

Some  favorite  late,  in  anguish  lay 
And  agonized  his  life  away  : 
You  grieved — to  be  consoled,  refused, 
And  heaven  itself  almost  accused 
OF  cruelty,  that  could  dispense 
Such  tortures  to  such  innocence. 

Could  you  but  lift  the  dreary  veil, 
And  see  with  eyes  or  mind  less  frail 


FRFNEAIPS  POEMb 

The  secrets  of  the  world  to  come, 
You  would  not  thus  bewail  his  doom,, 
To  find  on  some  more  happy  coast 
More  blessings,  far,  than  all  he  lost. 

The  seeming  ills  on  life  that  wait 
And  mingle  with  our  best  estate, 
Misfortune  on  misfortune  grown, 
And  heaviest  most,  when  most  alone  ; 
Calamities,  and  heart  oppressed — 
These  ail  attend  us,  for  the  best. 

Learn  hence,  ye  mournful,  tearful  race. 

On  a  sure  ground  your  hopes  to  place  ; 

Immutable  are  nature's  laws  ; 

And  hence  the  soul  her  comfort  draws 
That  all  the  God  allots  to  man 
Proceeds  on  one  unerring  plan. 

Hojd  to  the  moral  system,  true, 
And  heaven  will  always  be  in  view  : 
O  man  !  by  heaven  this  law  was  taught 
To  reconcile  you  to  your  lot, 

To  be  your  friend,  when  friendship  fails, 
And  nature  a  new  being  bails. 


THE  SCURRILOUS  SCRIBE. 


All  this  proceeds  from  nature's  frdt 
By  reason  not  corrected^et ; 
As  soon  might  bears  forbear  to  fight, 
Or  wolves  resign  the  power  to  bite. 


His  soul  extracted  from  the  public  sink, 
For  discord  born  he  splasht  around  his  ink  ; 
In  scandal  foremost,  as  by  scandal  led, 
He  hourly  rakes  the  ashes  of  the  dead. 

Secure  from  him  no  traveller  walks  the  streets, 
His  malice  sees  a  foe  in  all  he  meets ; 
With  dark  design  he  treads  his  daily  rounds, 
Kills  where  he  can,  and  where  he  cannot,  wounds, 

Nature  to  him  her  stings  of  rancor  gave 
To  shed,  unseen,  the  venom  of  a  knave  ; 
She  gave  him  cunning,  every  treacherous  art, 
She  gave  him  all  things  but  an  upright  heart  : 

And  one  thing  more — she  gave  him  but  the  pen, 
No  power  to  hurt,  not  even  th*"  brass  of  men, 
Whose  breast  though  furies  with  their  passion's  rule 
Yet  laugh  at  satire,  pointed  by  a  tool. 


113  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Was  there  no  world  but  ours  to  give  you  room  ? 
JN^- Patagonia,  for  your  savage  home, 
No  region,  where  antarctic  oceans  roll, 
No  icy  island,  neighboring  to  the  pole. 

By  dark  suspicion  led,  you  aim  at  all 
Who  will  not  to  your  sceptred  idol  tall ; 
To  work  their  ruin,  every  baseness,  try, 
.First  envy,  next  abuse  us,  then  belie. 

Such  is  your  sketch  !  and  thus  awhile  go  OR, 
Your  shafts  rebound,  and,  yet.  have  injured  none  c 
Hurt  who  they  will,  let  who  will  injured  be, 
The  sons  of  smut  and  scandal  hurt  not  me. 


SCRIBE  OF  SCRIBES. 


By  the  gods  of  the  poets,  Apollo  anr?  Jove, 
By  the  muse  wh    directs  me  thr  spirits  taat  ipo\c. 
I  council  you,  P  ter  o:ice  more,  to  retire 
Or  satire  shall  pierce,  with  her  arrows  oi 'fire. 


TO  THE  SCRIBE  OF  SCRIBES.          119 

Be  careful  to  stop  in  your  noisy  career, 
Or  homeward  retreat,  for  your  danger  is  near  : 
The  clouds  are  collecting  to  burst  on  your  head, 
Their  sulphur  to  dart,  or  their  torrents  to  shed. 

Along  with  the  tears,  I  foresee  you  will  weep, 
In  the  cave  of  oblivion  I  put  you  to  sleep  ;— 
This  dealer  in  scandal,  this  bladder  of  gall, 
This  sprig  of  Parnassus  must  go  to  the  wall. 

From  a  star  of  renown  in  the  reign  of*  the  night 
H(  is  dwindled  away  to  a  little  rush-light  : 
Then  snuff  it,  and  snuff  it,  while  yet  it  remains 
And  PETER  will  leave  you  the  sauff  for  your  pains— 


BELIEF  AND  UNBELIEF  : 

fcVMBLY  RECOMMENDED  TO  THE  SERIOUS  CONSIDERATIONS' 
OF  CREED  MAKERS. 


What  some  believe,  and  would  enforce 
Without  reluctance  or  remorse, 
Perhaps  another  may  decry, 
Or  catt  a  fraud,  or  d«esn  a  lie. 


FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Must  he  for  that  be  doom'd  to  bleed, 

And  fall  a  martyr  to  some  creed, 

By  hypocrites  or  tyrants  framed, 

By  reason  damn'd,  by  truth  disclaimed  ? 

On  mere  belief  no  merit  rests, 
A*  unbelief  no  guilt  attests  : 
Belief,  if  not  absurd  and  blind, 
Is  but  conviction  of  the  mind, 

Nor  can  conviction  bind  the  heart 
Ti)l  evidence  has  done  its  part  : 
And,  when  that  evidence  is  clear, 
Belief  is  just,  and  truth  is  near. 

In  evidence,  belief  is  found  ; 
Without  it,  none  are  fairly  bound 
To  yield  assent,  or  homage  pay 
To  what  confederate  worlds  might  Say, 

They  who  extort  belief  from  man 
Should,  in  the  out-set  of  their  pJan, 
Exhibit,  like  the  mid-day  sun 
An  evidence  denied  by  none. 

From  this  great  point,  o'erlook'd  or  miss'd, 
Still,  unbelievers  will  exist ; 
And  just  their  plea  ;  for  how  absurd 
For  evidence,  to  take^/owr  word ! 

Not  to  believe,  I  therefore  hold 
The  right  of  man,  all  imcoutrol'd 


BELIEF  AND  UNBELIEF.  121 

By  all  the  powers  of  human  wit, 
What  kings  have  done,  or  sages  writ  ; 

Xot  criminal  in  any  view, 
Nor — man  ! — to  be  avenged  by  you, 
Till  evidence  of  strongest  kind 
Constrains  assent,  and  clears  the  mind 


THE  REPUBLICAN  FESTIVAL: 


[)MPLIMENT   TO  COLONEL  HUNROJ2,    ON   HIS  RETURN* 
TO    AMERICA,    1797. 


As  late  at  a  feast  that  she  gave  to  MUNROE, 

Her  mark  of ; » tention  to  show, 
Young  liberty  gave  her  libations  to  flow, 

To  honor  where  honor  is  due. 

Returned  from  the  country  that  trampled  on  crowns 

Where  high  in  opinion  he  stood, 
Bark  malice  attack'd  him,  with  sneers,  and  with 
fro  was, 

But  he  met  the  applause  of  Ihp  %***• 


?  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

To  the  knight  of  the  sceptre  unwelcome  he  came 

But  freedom  his  merit  confessed — 
He  look'd  at  their  malice,  and  saw  it  was  fame, 

And  pity  forgave  them  the  rest. 

Good  humor,  and  pleasure,  and  friendship  did  join, 
And  reason  the  pleasure  increased  ; 

And  the  hero,  who  captured  the  british  Burgoyne, 
Presided  and  honor' d  the  feast. 

On  a  broomstick  from  hell,  with  a  quill  in  his  hand, 

Baal-Zephou  came  riding  the  air  ; 
He  look'd,  and  he  saw  that  among  the  whole  band 

Not  a  single  apostate  was  there. 

Disappointed,  he  sigh'd,  but  still  hover'd  about 
Till  the  toasts,  with  a  vengeance,  began — 

He  met  the  first  four ;  when  the  next  they  gave  out* 
To  his  cavern  he  fled  back  again. 

In  liberty's  temple,  the  petulant  cur 

Could  see  not  a  man  but  he  hates  ; 
With  a  curse  on  her  cause,  and  a  sneer,  and  a  spur 

He  fled  from  the  frown  of  a  GATES. 


*  Public  censure,  arm'd  with  the  spear  of  Ithurial :  may  it  dis-j 
cover  the  demons  of  tyranny,  wherever  they  lurk,  and  pursue 
them  to  their  native  obscurity. 


123    ) 


SUSANNA'S  TOMB, 


Susan  deceased  !  regretted  name  ! 
Beneath  the  turf  you  still  may  cJaira 
The  fond  regard  that  long  was  paid 
When  you  along  the  valley  play'd  : 

Susan  whose  life  was  but  a  span, 
Whose  circles  just  ten  summers  ran ; 
Who  now  shall  meet  that  smile  of  thine, 
The  image  once  supposed  divine. 

Ten  summers  pass'd  !  and  fhen  to  fade  ! 
And  find  the  damps  qjj  nature's  shade, 
Where  all  is  silent — all  is  gloom, 
And  changed  the  parlor  for  the  tomb  ! 

Returned  from  far  Madeira's  isle, 

1  thought  to  meet  the  expected  smile — 

That  smile  I  find  forever  fled, 

For  all  is  serious  with  the  dead. 

This  las  abode  to  adorn,  review, 
To  walk  the  soil  that  covers  you, 
Be  this  my  care  :  with  heart  of  gloom 
To  plant  the  trees  that  shade  the  tomb. 

And  here  the  village  maids  shall  bring 
The  earliest  daughters  of  the  spring  : 


124  VRENEAU'3  POEMS. 

Near  you  to  plant  the  fairest  flowers 
They  rob  Rosina's  sweetest  bowers 

Remembering  all  you  said,  with  tears, 
And  what  was  promised  to  your  years. 
Here,  as  they  quit  you,  or  return, 
They  trace  the  angel  in  the  urn, 
And  every  year  their  visit  pay 
To  deck  the  sod  that  hides  your  clay. 


ON  THE  WAR  PATRONS,  1798,, 

Weary  of  peace,  and  warm  for  war, 
Who  first  will  mount  the  iron  car  ? 
Who  first  appear,  to  shield  the  STARS, 
Who  foremost,  take  the  field  of  Mars  ? 
For  death  and  blood,  with  bold  design, 
Who  bids  a  hundred  legions  join  ? 

To  see  invasions  in  the  air 

From    France,  the   moon,  or  heaven  knows 

where ; 

In  freedom's  mo\ith  to  fix  the  gag, 
And  aid  afford  t'  a  withered  hag  ; 
This  is  the  purpose  of  a  few  ; 
But  this  we  see  will  scarcely  doe 


THE  WAR  PATRONS— 1798  125 

Who  bears  the  brunt,  or  pays  the  bill  ? 
The  friends  of  war  alone  can  tell : 
Observe,  six  thousand  heroes  stand 
With  not  three  privates  to  command  ; 
No  matter  for  the  nation's  debt 
If  some  can  wear  the  epaulette. 

If  reason  no  attention  finds, 
What  magic  shall  unite  all  minds  ? 
If  war  a  patronage  ensures 
That  fifty  thousand  men  procures, 
Is  such  a  force  to  humble  France  ? 
Will  these  against  her  arms  advance  ? 
To  fight  her  legions,  near  the  Rhine, 
Or  England's  force  in  Holland  join  ? 

In  dreams,  that  on  the  brain  intrude. 
When  nature  takes  her  sleepy  mood, 
And  when  she  frolics  through  the  mind, 
By  sovereign  reason  unconfined, 
When  her  main  spring  is  all  uncoil'd 
And  fancy  acts  in  whimsy  wild— 
I  saw  a  chieftain,  cap-a-pee, 
Arm'd  for  the  battle — who  but  he  ?— 
J  saw  him  draw  his  rusty  sword, 
A  present  from  a  London  lord : 
The  point  was  blunt,  the  edge  too  dull 
i  deera'dto  cleave  a  dutchman's  scull  ; 
And  with  this  sword  he  made  advance, 
And  with  this  sword  he  struck  at  France— 
This  sword  return'd  without  its  sheath, 
Too  weak  to  cause  a  single  death  ; 
L  2 


FRENFAU'S  POEMS. 

And  there  he  found  his  work  complete., 
And  then  he  made  a  sate  retreat, 
Where  folly  finds  the  camp  of  rest 
And  patience  learns  to  do  her  best. 

What  next,  will  policy  contrive 
To  bid  the  days  of  war  arrive  : 
Is  there  no  way  to  pick  a  quarrel, 
And  deck  the  martial  brow  with  laurel  <? 
Is  there  no  way  to  coax  a  fight 
And  gratify  soiue  men  of  might  ? 

To  some,  who  sit  at  helm  of  state, 

State-business  is  no  killing  weight, 

They  sign  their  names,  inquire  the  news, 

Look  wise, — take  care  to  get  their  dues  ; 

At  levees,  note  down  who  attends — 

And  there  the  mighty  business  ends  : 

To  some  that  deal  in  state-affairs 

The  world  comes  easy,  with  its  cares  ; 

To  some  who  wish  for  crown  and  king, 

A  quarrel  is  a  charming  thing  : 

They,  seated  at  the  fountain  head 

Quaff  bowls  of  nectar,  and  are  fed 

With  all  the  dainties  of  the  land 

That  cash,  or  market  may  command  . 

But  others  doom'd  to  station  low, 

Their  choicest  draughts  are  but — so,  so. 

Hard  knocks  are  theirs,  and  blood,  and  wonnd&, 

Ten  thousand  thumps  for  twenty  pounds  : 

Their  youth  they  sell  for  paltry  pay 

For  sixpence,  and  six  kicks  a  day,. 


THE  WAR  PATRONS— 1798.  127 

A  pound  of  pork  and  rotten  bread, 
A  coat  lapelPd,  with  badge  of  red  ; 
A  life  of  din  from  year  to  year, 
And  thus  concludes  the  mad  career. 

Ye  rising  race,  consider  well 
What  has  been  read,  or  what  we  tell. 
From  wars  all  regal  mischiefs  flow, 
And  kings  make  wars  a  raree-show, 
A  business  to  their  post  assigned 
To  torture,  damn,  enslave  mankind. 
For  this,  of  old,  did  priests  anoint  'era* 
Be  ours  the  task  to  disappoint  'em. 

But  when  a  foe  your  soil  invades, 
A  soldier  is  the  first  of  trades ; 
Then,  every  step  a  soldier  takes, 
Reflection  in  his  breast  awakes, 
That  duty  calls  him  to  the  field 
Till  all  invaders  are  expell'd  ; 
That  honor  sends  him  to  the  fight, 
That  he  is  acting  what  is  right, 
To  guard  the  soil,  and  all  that's  dear, 
From*snch  as  would  be  tyrants  here. 


(     128    ) 

ON    HEARING 

A  POLITICAL  ORATION, 

Superficially  composed  on  an  important  subject. 

Sound  without  sense,  and  words  devoid  of  force. 
Through  which  no  art  could  find  a  clue, 

And  mean,  and  shackling  was  the  whole  discourse 
That  kept  me,  TULLY,  long  from  you. 

Heads  of  harangues,  to  heads  less  general,  split, 
Seem'd  like  small  laths,  cleft  ^trom  some  heavy  log  ; 

I  heard  the  inference,  that  no  object  hit  — 
All  congelation,  vapor,  smoke,  or  fog. 

And  what  avaiPd  the  argument  unsound 

That  nothing  proved,  or  on  the  rxpecting  mind 

Forced  no  conviction — just  as  well  might  sound 
To  the  deaf  ear  with  sentiments  abound. 

Long  did  we  wait  for  application  time 

To  find  what  sense  or  reason  might  apply  :— 

It  came — attended  with  the  false  sublime, 
And  thread-bare  truths,  no  mortal  could  deny 

Repeated  thoughts,  and  periods  of  a  mile. 
Remarks,  devoid  of  dignity  or  power, 


A  POLITICAL  ORATION.  129 

Exploded  notions,  dress' d  in  brilliant  style, 
Exhausted  patience,  and  consumed  the  hour. 

Thus  when  of  old  some  town  some  folks  besieged, 
Before  the  walls  the  invader  sat  him  down, 

While  those  who  mann'd  them,  at  their  foes  enraged, 
Threw  many  a  load  of  ancient  lumber  down ; 

And  wore  them  out,  with  tumbling  on  their  heads 
Bricks,  tiles,  and  paying-stones,  huge  logs  of  timber, 

Pump-water,  cold  or  boiling,  shovels,  spades, — 
And  more,  by  far,  than  you  or  I  remember. 

Ah,  speaker !  with  artillery  like  your  own 

Hard  will  it  be  one  Federal  to  awake, 
Trust  me,  although  you  scold,  and  chafe,  and  frown.* 

You  may  besiege,  but  are  not  like  to  take 
Their  three  wall'd  town. 


ON   THE    PROPOSED    SYSTEM    OF 

STATE   CONSOLIDATION,  &c, 

about  1799. 

In  thoughtless  hour  some  much  misguided  men, 
And  more,  who  held  a  prostituted  pen, 
From  monstrous  creeds  a  monstrous  system  drew, 
That  every  STATE  into  one  kettle  threw, 


130  PRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

And  boil'd  them  up  until  the  goodly  mass 

Might  for  a  kingdom,  or  a  something,  pass. 

In  the  gay  circle  of  saint  James's  placed, 

From  thence,  no  doubt,  this  modest  plan  they  traced, 

Smit  with  the  splendor  that  surrounds  a  king, 

Too  many  sigh'd,  and  wish'd  to  be  that  thing. 

Thence  came  a  book  (where  came  it  but  from  thence  ?) 

Made  up  of  all  things  but  a  grain  of  sense. 

Lawyers  and  counsellors  echo'd  back  the  note 

And  lying  journals  praised  the  trash  they  wrote. 

Though  british  armies  could  not  long  prevail, 
Yet  british  politics  may  turn  the  scale  : 
In  ten  short  years,  of  freedom  weary  grown, 
The  state,  republic,  sickens  for  a  throne ; 
Senates  and  sycophants  a  pattern  bring 
A  mere  disguise  tor  parliament  and  king. 
A  pensioned  army  !  whence  a  plan  so  base  ? — 
A  despot's  safety,  liberty's  disgrace. 
What  saved  these  states  from  Britain's  wasting  hand, 
Who  but  the  generous  rustics  of  the  land, 
A  free-born  race,  inured  to  every  toil, 
Who  clear  the  forest  and  subdue  the  soil  ? 
"They  tyrants  banish'd  from  this  injured  shore, 
And  home-bred  traitors  may  expel  once  more. 

Ye,  who  have  propp'd  the  venerated  cause, 
Who  freedom  honor'd,  and  sustain'd  her  laws  | 
When  thirteen  states  are  moulded  into  one, 
Your  rights  are  vanish'd  and  your  glory  gone ; 
The/orm  of  freedom  will  alone  remain- 
Borne  had  her  senate  wheo  she  hugg'd  her  chain. 


STATE  CONSOLIDATION,  131 

Sent  to  revise  our  system,— not  to  change, 
What  madness  that  whole  system  to  derange, 
Amendments,  only,  was  the  plan  in  view, 
You  scorn  amendments,  and  destroy  it  too. 
How  much  deceived  !  would  heroes  of  renowo 
Scheme  for  themselves,  and  pull  the  fabric  dowq,, 
Bid  in  its  place  Columbia's  column  rise 
Inscribed  with  these  sad  words— Here  freedom  lies  \ 


STANZAS 

ON    A 

' 

POLITICAL  PROJECTOR, 

fTHO   WAS   MAKING   INTEREST,   TO   BE   EMPLOYED  ON  AN 
EMBASSY  TO   CONSTANTINOPLE. 

When  Goody  held  him  on  her  knee 
She  vow'd  that  she  could  plainly  see 
The  boy  ambassador  would  be. 

But  to  what  court,  or  when,  or  where 
Sh  •  could  not  certainly  declare, 
But  said,  it  woulu  be  something  rare- 


132  FREIVEAU'S  POEMS. 

The  mother  pleased  we  may  suppose, 
Then  told  the  nurse,  (the  story  goes) 
That  nurse,  for  this,  should  nothing  lose  ; 

Nay,  if  it  happ'd,  when  time  came  round, 

The  prophecy  was  genuine  found 

That  nurse  should  have — full  twenty  ponnd. 

The  prophecy  had  been  fulfill'd, 
The  envoy  to  the  Porte  has  sail'd 
And  old  Constantine's  city  hail'd. 

There  to  have  put  a  turban  on 

And  copied  Muli-Melech's  gown, 

And  drove  his  coach  through  Turkey  town. 

But  some,  who  were  our  envoy's  foes 
Thought  wrong  an  envoy  should  be  chose. 
Who  could  not  see  beyond  his  nose. 

And  so  this  man  of  fair  renown 

Who  would  have  sail'd  to  Turkey  town 

At  prudent  distance  sate  him  down. 

With  Selima  to  have  no  route  ! — 
A  disappointment,  this,  no  doubt, 
That  sour'd  his  stomach,  like  sour-cront. 

Old  Sestos  and  Scamander  he 
At  public  charge,  will  never  see, 
IV or  will  he  bend  at  Achmet's  knee. 


A  POLITICAL  PROJECTOR.  133 

Nor  shall  he  Priam's  kingdom  greet, 
The  fields,  where  Hector  met  defeat, 
Or  where  the  grecians  moor'd  their  fleet  j 

Nor  Tenedos,  that  fatal  isle, 
Where  lamed  Achilles  staid  awhile 
The  trojan  armies  to  beguile  : 

Nor  yet  the  straits  of  Dardanelle, 
Where  formerly,  old  stories  tell, 
Leander  met  his  phrygian  belle, 

All  those  the  squire  will  miss  and  more, 
To  come,  and  see  his  native  shore, 
— And  hawk  and  spit  on  senate  floo' 


NATURE'S  DEBT, 


Life  is  the  principal,  by  nature  lent, 

Which  must  be  paid  when  she  demands  her  due, 
With  interest  fix'd  at  different  rates  per  cent 

Which  interest  is,  the  troubles  we  go  througb 
While  here  we  stay  in  this  frail  tenement. 

This  principal  or  soon  or  late  is  paid, 
But  nature  is- a  creditor  severe, 
M 


134  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

For  in  her  jail  the  debtor  still  is  laid 
Though  he  has  satisfied  her  full  arrear  ; 

How  should  they  satisfy,  where  money's  none. 
Device,  nor  art ;  no  science,  toil  or  trade, 

Where  all  is  drowsy,  and  old  time  rolls  on 
Useless  and  idle  to  the  prisoner  made. 

There,  turn-key  never  will  unlock  the  door, 
There,  no  insolvent  acts  will  ever  come  ; 
Ten  thousand  years,  and  twice  ten  thousand  more 

Will  roll  away,  nor  meliorate  their  doom. 
And  here  one  maxim,  that  the  world  holds  true, 
Proves  false — that  prisons  rarely  pay  what's  due. 
None  can  deny,  or  have  denied  it  yet 
That  prison,  cali'd  the  grave,  pays  nature's  debt 


NEW  YEAR'S  EVE. 

To  sJmn  reflection  on  the  seasons  past 

The  finish'd  circle  of  the  closing  year, 
A  jovial  crew,  chill'd  by  December's  blast, 

Collect  to  drink  away  its  funeral  here. 
But  why,  thus  joyous  to  a  funeral  come 

Array M  in  Christmas  coat,  with  dance  and  soag^ 
Why  not  some  emblematic  garb  assume, 

Why  not  with  solemn  bvmns  the  hours  prolong^ 


NEW-YEAR'S  EVE.  13* 

Simon,  amidst  the  folly  of  the  night, 

This  general  tumult,  wild  excess  of  mirth  ! 
We  much  admire,  that  you,  grey-headed  wight, 

Who  soon  must  mingle  with  the  clods  of  earth, 
Should  thus,  with  junior  men,  misuse  your  time, 

Join  in  the  dance,  exhaust  the  festive  bowl ; 
You  who  are  forty  winters  past  your  prime 

Whom  time  with  dead  men  shortly  will  enrol. 

Let  me  describe  how  follow  pass'd  this  eve 

The  night  that  usher'd  in  the  following  year; — 
With  songs  profane  they  did  the  hours  deceive, 

Drank  deep  and  call'd  the  jug  their  brother  dean 
At  the  hour  of  eight  their  eyes  began  to  shine 

Like  Venus  at  the  dawn,  like  little  moons  ; 
The  clock  struck  ten,  they  scarce  behaved  like  meH* 

Sung  smutty  songs  to  black-guard  tunes. 

Then,  with  the  rest,  the  ancient  man  of  sin 
Quick  to  the  board  ef  savoury  supper  moved ; 

Then  paused  the  giddy  dance,  the  violin  ; 

And  as  they  eat,  the  supper  they  approach'd  ; 

With  dainty  bit  each  gratified  his  maw, 

Drank  all  they  had,  and  swallowed  all  they  saw. 

Twelve  now  had  struck — the  year  was  gone  forever, 
Old  Simon  wishM  the  devil  had  the  clock  ; 

Then  strike  up,  boy,  he  bellow'd,  now  or  never  I 
Renew  the  dance — and  scarce  the  word  he  spoko 

When  all  was  motion,  merriment,  and  fun, 

The  old  year  ended  and  the  new  begun. 


FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Next  to  the  cards  they  went,  and  in  a  trice 
Another  set  were  busy  with  the  dice  ; 
Th-  c.ial  show'd  that  two  was  not  remote, 
And  much  ado  to  keep  their  heads  afloat. 
Then  quarrels  rose,  and  quarrelsome  they  grew, 
And  fisty -cuffs  went  round — half  after  two. 

With  threatening  sticks,  or  shovel  from  the  Ore, 
Each  batter'd  each —the  good  wife  said,  retire  ! 
And  bade  old  Simon,  with  his  lifted  cane, 
Go  home  ! — but  Simon  she  address'd  in  vain. 
He  swore  no  pleasure  was  that  night  at  home, 
And  no  where  else — except  in  drinking  rum — 

Three  !  said  the  clock,  and  sleepy  dews  began 

To  seize  the  eyes  of  maid  and  man  : 

Amelia  fair  upon  a  blanket  dosed, 

And,  Caty-Ann  !  thy  pretty  eyes  were  closed, 

Sal  nodded  on  a  chair  with  smutty  cap, 

While  a  tall  black-smith  lounged  upon  her  lap. 

Simon,  still  merry,  held  it  out  till  dawn, 

Till  all  was  drank,  and  every  cask  was  drawn, 

Then  rose  and  left  them,  without  thought  or  thank  ; 

With  not  a  cent  to  pay  for  all  he  drank. 

A  few  there  were,  who  scrupled  not  to  say 
Such  conduct  did  not  honor  new  year's  day — 
New  year  did  not  for  such  excesses  come  : 

And  all  agreed 

In  the  same  creed, 
Simon,  at  least,  had  better  been  at  home* 


6N  PASSING 
BY  AN  OLD  CHURCH-YARD, 


Pensive,  on  this  green  torf  I  cast  my  eye, 
And  almost  feel  inclined  to  muse  and  sigh  : 
Such  tokens  of  mortality  so  nigh. 

But  hold, — who  knows  if  these  who  soundly  sTeep, 
Would  not,  alive,  have  made  some  orphan  weep, 
Or  plunged  some  slumbering  victim  in  the  deep. 

There  may  be  here,  who  once  were  virtue's  foes, 
A  curse  through  life,  the  cause  of  many  woes, 
Who  wrong'd  the  widow,  and  disturbed  repose. 

There  may  be  here,  who  with  malicious  aim 
Did  alt  they  could  to  wound  another's  fame, 
Steal  character,  and  filch  away  good  name, 

Perhaps  yond'  solitary  turf  invests 

Some  who,  when  living,  were  the  social  pests. 

Patrons  of  ribands,  titles,  crowns  and  crests. 


Can  we  on  such  a  kindred  tear  bestow  ? 
They,  who,  in  life,  were  every  just  man' 
A  plague  to  all  about  them  !— oh,  no,  nt>« 
M  2 


13$  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

What  though  sepultured  with  the  funeral  whine  ; 
Why,  sorrowing  on  such  tombs  should  we  recline, 
Where  truth,  perhaps,  has  hardly  penned  a  line. 

— Yet,  what  if  here  some  honest  man  is  laid 
Whom  nature  ofher  best  materials  made, 
Who  all  respect  to  sacred  honor  paid. 

Gentle,  humane,  benevolent,  and  just 
(Though  now  forgot  and  mingled  with  the  dust, 
There  may  be  such,  and  such  there  are  we  trust.) 

Yes — for  the  sake  of  that  one  honest  man 
We  would  on  knaves  themselves  bestow  a  tear, 

Think  nature  form'd  them  on  some  crooked  plan, 
And  say,  peace  rest  on  all  that  slumber  here. 


THE  ORDER  OF  THE  DAY  : 

TO  READERS   OF   THE  HISTORY   OF   WARS,    ANCIENT  AND 
MODERN. 


If  on  this  sad,  distressing  book, 
With  eager  eye  you  often  look, 
And  there  on  dreary  record  find 
The  murder'd  millions  of  mankind, 


ORDER  OF  THE  DAY. 

Grieve  not  too  much,  reflect  an4  say, 
Twas  but  the  order  ofiht  day. 

The  crimes  of  an  imperial  race, 
Incessant,  stare  you  in  the  face  : 
Have  they  this  various  havoc  spread, 
And  art's  best  works  in  ruin  laid  ?— 
We  sigh  for  this,  as  well  as  you, 
And  tears,  at  times  sincerely  flow, 
To  see  mankind  by  war  decay 
By  wars,  the  order  of  the  day. 

The  men  of  thought,  in  senates  knowB9 
Who  drive  a  nation's  business  on, 
Have  long  agreed  in  things  of  state 
Each  day  should  have  its  own  debate. 
Tis  sometimes  war  and  sometimes  peace  f 
But  who  can  tell  when  strife  will  cease, 
Or  come  the  time,  when,  wars  away, 
We  get  new  orders  of  the  day. 

When  trans-atlantic  squadrons  came 
And  wasted  wide  with  fire  and  flame. 
All  saw  the  order  drawing  near 
(Some  thought  the  orders  too  severe) 
Some  said  the  royal  claimant  throng 
Had  issued  orders  much  too  long, 
Republic,  come  !  your  spirit  show, 
And  take  your  turn  to  order  too. 

So,  to  the  field  bold  legions  led, 
With  various  fortune  fought,  or  blei 


140  FRENEAtT'S  POEMS. 

For  seven  long  years  the  war  sustained 
On  which  the  cause  of  freedom  lean'd  ; 
And  often  vanquish'd  knight  and  peer 
Who  came  to  give  hard  orders  here  ; 
Arid  though  their  armies  hoped  to  stay 
At  length,  we  order'd  them  away. 

When  France  began  her  proud  career 
Then  every  tyrant  quaked  with  fear, 
And  arm'd  their  subjects  far  and  wide 
While  Luna  swell'd  the  royal  tide. 
King  Frederick  led  his  conquering  host, 
Duke  Brunswick  made  his  haughty  boast 
That  Paris  should  in  flames  ascend 
Ere  Louis  should  to  rebels  bend  ; 
Yes — he  would  show  them  royal  play 
And  give  new  orders  of  the  day. 
An  order  of  his  own  that  brings 
The  sword,  the  last  resort  of  kings. 

May  despots  be  degraded  low, 
Who,  where  they  find  not,  make  a  foe  t 
In  debt  for  navies,  armies,  wars — 
The  subject  says,  the  debt  is  ours  ! 
Discouraged,  famish'd,  broken  down, 
They  curse  the  king,  abuse  the  crown, 
And  should  to  George,  or  Frederick  say, 
It  breaks  our  hearts  your  bills  to  pay. 

But  little  some  regard  the  cost, 

Whosfc  hearts  are  flints,  whose  souls  are  frost, 


ORDER  OF  THE  DAT,  141 

Whom  nature  never  yet  could  bind 

On  reason's  plan  to  rule  mankind ; 

Whose  views  and  ends  are  to  enslave 

And  make  a  man  both  fool  and  knave* 

A  murderer  or  a  mere  machine, 

And  born  to  serve  a  king  or  queen  : 

M.i>  such,  opposed  to  reason's  light 

For  time  to  come  receive  this  doom 

That  plants  them  deep,  and  sends  them  home ; 

To  tht'ir  last  home  to  sink  outright 

And  serve  the  orders  of  the  night. 


ON  THE  LAUNCHING 


OF    THE 


FRIGATE  CONSTITUTION. 


The  builders  had  the  ship  prepared, 
And  near  her  stood  a  triple  guard, 

For  fear  of  secret  foes. 
Some,  tiptoe  stood  to  see  her  start, 
And  would  hav«?  said,  with  all  their  hearj. 

In  raptures,  there  she  goes  ! 


142  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

The  stubborn  ship,  do  what  they  could, 
Convinced  them,  she  was  made  of  wood 

Though  plann'd  with  art  supreme  ; 
All  art,  all  force  the  ship  defy'd — 
3for  brilliant  day,  nor  top  of  tide 

Could  urge  her  to  the  stream. 

Some,  with  their  airs  aristocratic, 
And  some  with  honors  diplomatic, 

Advanced  to  see  the  show  : 
In  vain  the  builder  to  her  call'd — 
In  vain  the  shipwrights  pull'd  and  haul'd— • 

She  could  not — would  not  go. 

Each  anti-federal,  with  a  smile 
Observed  the  yet  unfloating  pile 

As  if  he  meant  to  say, 
Builder,  no  doubt,  you  know  your  trade, 
A  constitution  you  have  made 
But  should  her  ways  have  better  laid. 

Well  now  to  heave  the  ship  afloat, 
To  move  from  this  unlucky  spot, 
Take  our  advice,  and  give  them  soon, 
What  should  have  long  ago  been  done, 
AMENDMENTS — YOU  KNOW  WHAT. 


(     143     ) 


THE 


BETHLEHEMITE  : 

or,  fair  solitary. 

A'pensive  female,  in  her  prime. 
Reflecting  on  the  end  oj  lime, 

Sought  an  obscure  recess  : 
She  slighted  every  shepherd's  flame, 
The  city  beau — she  sighing  came 

To  pray,  and  feed  on  grace. 

From  noise  and  nonsense,  far  away  . 
She  with  the  trees  prefer'd  to  stay, 

She  left  the  gay,  and  left  the  vain 

For  contemplation's  serenade 

She  most  admired  the  willow  shade 

Suns  clouded  and  the  moon  in  wane. 


Ye  thoughtless  swains,  who  haunt  the  towr/, 
Who  at  each  gay  resort  are  known, 

Or  chase  some  glittering  fly, 
Set  not  your  hearts  on  Caroline  ; 
In  her  the  charms  and  graces  join. 

But  love  comes  never  nigh — 

But  homage  to  the  almighty  due 
Should  not  seclude  her  from  all  view  ; 


144  FRENEAU'S  POEMS, 

Though  hermit  she  is  grown, 
Yet  friendship  asks  some  little  share — 
And  love,  if  love  may  have  his  prayer, 

Hopes  she  may  yet  be  won. 


ATTEMPTED  LAUNCH  OF  A  FRIGATE. 


designed  for  war  against  a  sister  republic. — 1798- 

Unless  it  be  for  mere  defence 
May  shipwrights  fail  to  launch  you  hence, 
At  best,  the  comrade  of  old  Nick — 
Some  folks  will  smile  to  see  you  stick, 

But  now,  suppose  the  matter  done, 
And  her  the  element  upon  ; 
What  cause  have  we  mad  wars  to  wage 
Or  join  the  quarrels  of  the  age  ? 

Remote  from  Europe's  wrangling  race* 
Who  show  us  no  pacific  face 
Lot's  tread  negociation's  track 
Before  we  venture  to  attack. 


LAUNCH  OF  A  FRIGATE.  145 

But  to  the  seas  if  we  must  go, 
Tis  clearly  seen  who  is  the  foe, 
Who  hastens,  it  no  distant  date, 
To  repossess  his  lost  estate. 

I  see  them  r  ;i?e  the  storm  of  war, 
To  cloud  the  guy  Columbian  t    ir, 
I  see  them,  bloody,  brave  and  b&s& 
Make  us  the  object  of  their  chase, 

Their  ships  of  such  superior  might 
All  we  possess  will  put  to  flight, 
Or  bear  them  off,  with  all  on  board, 
To  make  a  meal  for  George  the  third. 

One  frigate,  only,  will  not  do — 
She  must  retreat  while  they  pursue. 
To  make  her  drink  affliction's  cup, 
And,  heaven  preserve  us,  eat  her  up, 

A  navy  of  stupendous  strength 
Tis  plain,  must  be  our  lot  at  length, 
To  sweep  the  seas,  to  guard  the  shore, 
And  crush  their  haughtiest  seventy  four. 

Those  puny  ships  that  now  we  frame, 
(The  way  that  England  plays  her  game} 
Will  to  their  bull-dogs  fall  a  prey 
The  hour  we  get  them  under  weigh— 


(     146    ) 


ON  THE 

FREE  USE  OF  THE  LANCET, 

IN   YELLOW   FEVERS.* 

In  former  days  your  starch'd  divines 
From  notes  of  twenty  thousand  lines 

Held  many  a  long  dispute ; 
One  argued  this,  one  argued  that. 
And  reverend  wigs,  as  umpires  sat, 

AD  sophists  to  confute. 

They  dwelt  on  things  beyond  their  ken 
And  teazed  and  puzzled  simple  men 

To  hold  them  in  the  dark  ; 
But  their  long  season  now  is  past, 
The  churchman's  horn  has  blown  its  blast, 

Things  take  a  different  mark. 

Physicians  now  to  quiet  pain 
Stick  lancet  in  the  patient's  vein 

That  burns  with  feverish  heat  : 
The  next  contend,  they're  wholly  wrong, 
That  life  will  leak  away  ere  long 

If  thus  the  case  they  treat. 

*  A  practice  very  prevalent  at  the  time  the  above  was  written 


LANCET  IN  YELLOW  FEVER.          147 

Meantime  a  practice  gets  about, 
Perhaps,  to  make  some  doctors  pout  : 
OM  Shelafi,  with  her  herbs  and  teas, 
And  scarce  a  shilling  for  her  tees, 
In  many  instances,  at  least, 
Wiien  deaths  and  funerals  increased, 
Did  more  to  dispossess  the  fever, 
Did  more  from  dying  beds  deliver 
Than  all  the  hippocratian  host 
Con  Id  by  the  lancet's  virtue  boast ; 
To  which,  I  trow,  full  many  a  ghost 
Will  have  a  grudge  for  ever. 


ON  THE  C1TF  ENCROACHMENTS  ON  THJB 


RIVER  HUDSON. 

Where  Hudson,  once,  in  all  his  pride 

In  surges  burst  upon  the  shore 
They  plant  amidst  his  flowing  tide 
Moles,  to  defy  his  loudest  roar ; 
And  lofty  mansions  grow  where  late 
Half  Europe  might  discharge  her  freight. 

From  northern  lakes  and  wastes  of  snow 
The  river  takes  a  distant  rise, 


148  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Now  marches  swift,  now  marches  slow, 
And  now  adown  some  rapid  flies 

Till  join'd  the  Mohawk,  in  their  course 
They  travel  with  united  force. 

But  cease,  nor  with  too  daring  aim 
Encroach  upon  this  giant  flood  ; 
BFo  rights  reserved  by  nature,  claim, 
Nor  on  his  ancient  bed  intrude  : — 
The  river  may  in  rage  awake 
And  time  restore  him  all  you  take 

The  eastern  stream,  his  sister,  raves 

To  see  such  moles  her  peace  molest, 
A  L-'-ndvn  built  upon  her  waves, 

The  weight  of  mountains  on  her  breast : 
With  quicken 'd  flow  she  seeks  the  main 
As  on  her  bed  new  fabrics  gain. 

Bold  streams  !  and  may  our  verse  demand 

Is  there  not  coast  for  many  a  mile, 

And  soils,  as  forra'd  by  natures  hand 

That  border  all  ytauhattan's  isle  : 

Then  why  these  mounds  does  avarice  raise 
And  builti  the  haunts  of  pale  disease. 

Yet  in  your  aim  to  clip  their  wing 

(ft  asks  no  wizard  to  descry,) 
That  time  the  \votul  day  will  bring 
When  Hudson's  passion,  swelling  high, 
May  in  a  foam  his  wrongs  repay 
And  sweep  both  house  and  wharf  away. 


(     149    J 


STANZAS 


WRITTEN  IN  BLACKBEARD, 


THE  PIRATE'S  CASTLE,    NEAR    THE  TOWN  OF  ST. 
THOMAS,  IN  THE  WEST  INDIES. — 1799. 


The  ancient  knave,  who  raised  these  walls, 

Now  to  oblivion  half  resigned — 
His  fortress  to  the  mind  recalls 
The  nerve  that  stimulates  mankind  ; 
When  savage  force  exerts  its  part 
And  ruffian  blood  commands  the  heart, 

This  pirate,  known  to  former  days, 

The  scourge  of  these  unhappy  climes, 
In  this  strong  fabric  thought  to  raise 
A  monument  to  future  times : 

To  guard  himself  and  guard  his  gold, 
Or  shelter  robbers,  uncontrol'd. 

A  standard  on  these  walls  he  rcar'd, 

And  here  he  swore  the  oath  profane, 
That  by  his  god,  and  by  his  beard, 
Sole,  independent,  he  would  reign ; 
And  do  his  best  to  crush  the  sway 
Of  }ega|  right  and  honesty, 
N  2 


FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Within  these  walls,  and  in  these  vaults, 

Of  princely  power  and  wealth  possessed, 
Dominion  hung  on  all  his  thoughts, 
And  here  he  hoped  an  age  of  rest ; 
The  wealth  of  princes  flowing  in 
That  from  the  Spaniards  he  did  win 

He  many  a  chief  and  captain  awed, 

Or  chain'd  with  fetters,  foot  and  hand  „ 
Unchecked,  his  fleets  he  sent  abroad, 
Commission  gave,  conferr'd  command  ; 
And  if  his  sailors  skulk'd  or  fled, 
He  made  them  shorter — by  a  head. 

Half  Europe's  flags  he  bade  retire 

From  ponderous  guns  he  hurl'd  the  ball- 
He  fill'd  his  glass  with  liquid  fire 
And  drank  damnation  to  them  all : 
For  many  a  year  he  held  the  swajf 
And  thousands  at  his  mercy  lay. 

Confiding  in  his  castle's  strength 
Mann'd  by  a  fierce  heroic  crew, 
He  blunder'd  on  till  they  at  length, 
The  model  of  a  city  drew, 

Where  he  might  reign  and  be  obey'd, 
And  be  the  tyrant  of  all  trade. 

Vain  hope  !  his  fort  neglected  stands 
And,  crumbling,  hastens  to  decay  ;— 

Where,  once,  he  train1  d  his  daring  bands 
The  stranger  scarcely  finds  bis  way ; 


BLACKBEARD,  151 

The  bushes  in  the  castle  grow 

Where  once  he  menaced  friend  and  foe, 

In  this  mysterious  scene  of  things 

There  must  be  laws  or  who  could  live  ? 
There  must  be  laws  to  aid  the  wings 
Of  those  who  on  the  ocean  strive 
To  earn  by  commerce,  bold  and  free, 
The  honest  gains  of  industry. 


I 


THE 


HERMIT  AND  THE  TRAVELLER, 


The  ground  was  white  with  hail  and  snow, 
The  storm  was  high,  the  sun  was  low, 
And  every  stream  had  ceased  to  flow. 

A  traveller  sought  a  lonely  shed 
In  hopes  to  find  a  fire  and  bed, 
To  warm  his  feet  and  rest  his  hcadL 


U2  FRENEAU'S  POEM&. 

And  blest  are  they  in  wintry  vales 
When  every  hope  before  them  fails 
Who  find  such  shelter  from  such  gales'. 

A  hut  itself,  secure  and  dry, 

A  refuge  from  the  inclement  sky, 

Who  would  not  enter  thankfully  ? 

A  hermit,  of  a  mild  address, 

Who  long  had  lodged  in  this  recess, 

The  Solon  of  the  wilderness, 

Accosting,  bade  the  stranger  come 
And  welcome,  to  his  little  home, 
Where  all  was  but  one  little  room. 

Thus  welcomed  to  the  poor  abodev 
Awhile  he  ruminating  stood 
In  sober  and  reflective  mood. 

44  What  solace  here  can  misery  meet 
(Said  he)  no  fire  to  warm  my  feet, 
No  bedding  in  this  cold  retreat. 

This  hut  may  guard  from  snow  and  ram 
But  all  i<*  cold,  and  poor,  and  mean, 
So,  fare  you  well ; — I'll  walk  again." 


lie  went — and  as  the  night  came  on, 
The  snow  came  fiercer — driving  down 
4Vas  dark,  and  hope  itself  was  gone. 


HERMIT  AND  TRAVELLER. 

He  wander'd  here,  and  wander'd  there 
While  all  around  him  gloom' d  despair, 
The  howling  storm,  the  chilling  air. 

Now,  to  regain  the  humble  shed 
And  make  a  sheaf  of  straw  his  bed 
Was  all  the  gleam  of  hope  he  had. 

That  night,  but  whether  soon  or  late 
It  matters  not,  he  met  his  fate, 
And  enter'd  on  a  future  state. 

Next  week,  by  chance,  the  hermit  grey 
Across  the  forest  chanced  to  stray 
And  found  the  carcass  in  his  way. 

"Alack!  (he  cry'd)  you  should  have  staid 
And  not  have  spuru'd  my  little  shed  j 

You  should  have  shared  in  half  I  had — 
My  oaken  bench,  my  leafy  bed  : 

My  homely  fare  of  nuts  and  fruits, 
The  apple  dry'd,  and  turnip  roots, 
And  all  that  for  a  hermit  suits. 

0  stranger  to  the  hermit  race ! 
In  search  of  a  less  humble  place 

1  see  you  in  a  woful  case." 

Learn  hence,  ye  proud,  to  drop  your  wings, 
Slight  not  the  day  of  litt-e  things, 
Since  all  that's  great  from  little  springs. 


154  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Perhaps  the  proverb  may  be  stale, 
But  heed  the  meaning  of  the  tale, 
"  Leave  not  the  harbor  in  a  gale" 


STANZAS 


To  the  memory  of  Gen.  WASHINGTON,  who  died 
Dec.  14,  1799. 

Terra  tcgit,  populus  mceret,  ceelum  habet ! 

Departing  with  the  closing  age 

To  virtue,  worth  and  freedom  true, 
The  chief,  the  patriot,  and  the  sage 
To  Vernon  bids  his  last  adieu  : 
To  reap  in  some  exalted  sphere 
The  just  rewards  of  virtue  here. 

Thou,  Washington,  by  heaven  design'd 

To  act  a  part  in  human  things 
That  few  have  known  among  mankind, 
And  far  beyond  the  task  of  kings ; 
We  hail  you  now  to  heaven  received, 
Your  mighty  task  on  earth  achieved. 

While  sculpture  and  her  sister  arts, 
For  thee  their  choicest  wreaths  prepare. 


GENERAL  WASHINGTON.  155 

Fond  gratitude  her  share  imparts 
And  begs  thy  bones  for  burial  there ; 
Where,  near  Virginia's  northern  bound 
Swells  the  vast  pile  on  federal  ground. 

To  call  from  their  obscure  abodes 

The  grecian  chief,  the  roman  sage, 
The  kings,  the  heroes,  and  the  gods 
Who  flourished  in  time's  earlier  age, 
Would  be  to  class  them  not  with  you, — 
Superior  far,  in  every  view. 

Those  ancients  of  ferocious  mould, 

Blood  their  delight,  and  war  their  trade, 
Their  oaths  profaned,  their  countries  sold, 
And  fetter'd  nations  prostrate  laid  ; 
Could  these,  like  you,  assert  their  claim 
To  honor  and  immortal  fame  ? 

Those  monarchs,  proud  of  pillaged  spoils, 

With  nations  shackled  in  their  train, 
Returning  from  their  desperate  toils 

With  trophies, — and  their  thousands  slaia  ; 
In  all  they  did  no  traits  are  known 
Like  those  thathonor'd  Washington. 

Who  now  will  save  our  shores  from  harms, 

The  task  to  him  so  long  assigned  ? 
Wno  now  will  rouse  our  youth  to  arms 
Should  war  approach  to  curse  mankind  ? 
Alas  !  no  more  the  word  you  give, 
But  in  your  precepts  you  survive 


FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Ah,  gone  !  and  none  your  place  supply, 

Nor  will  your  equal  soon  appear; 
But  that  great  name  can  only  die 

When  memory  dwells  no  longer  here, 
When  man  and  all  his  systems  must 
Dissolve,  like  you,  and  turn  to  dust* 


STANZAS 


SAME    SUBJECT   WITH   THE   PRECEDING 


The  chief  who  freed  these  suffering  lands 
From  Britain's  bold  besieging  bands. 
The  hero,  through  all  countries  known — 
The  guardian  genius  of  his  own, 

Is  gone  to  that  celestial  bourne 
From  whence  no  traveller  can  return, 
Where  Scipio  and  where  Trajan  went : 
And  heaven  reclaims  the  soul  it  lent. 

Each  heart  with  secret  wo  congeals ; 

Dpwn  the  the  pale  cheek  moist  sorrow  steals. 


WASHINGTON. 

And  all  the  nobler  passions  join 
To  mourn,  remember,  and  resign. 

O  ye,  who  crave  the  marble  bust 
To  celebrate  poor  human  dust, 
And  from  the  silent  shades  of  death 
Retrieve  the  form  but  not  the  breath* 

Vain  is  the  attempt  by  force  of  art 
To  impress  his  image  on  the  heart : 
It  lives,  it  glows,  in  every  breast, 
And  tears  of  millions  paint  it  best. 

Indebted  to  his  guardian  care, 
And  great  alike  in  peace  or  war, 
The  loss  they  feel  these  STATES  deplore, 
Their  friend.... their  father,. ..is  no  more. 

What  will  they  do  to  avow  their  grief? 
No  sighs,  no  tears,  afford  relief ; 
Dark  mourning  weeds  but  ill  express 
The  poignant  wo  that  all  confess ; 
Nor  will  the  monumental  stone 
Assuage  one  tear — relieve  one  groaa. 

O  Washington  !  thy  honor'd  dust 
To  parent  nature  we  entrust ; 
Convinced  that  your  exalted  mind 
Still  lives,  but  soars  beyond  mankind, 
Stiil  acts  in  virtue's  sacred  cause, 
"\or  asks  from  man  his  vain  applause. 
O 


158  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

In  raptures  with  a  theme  so  great, 
While  thy  famed  action^  they  relate, 
Each  future  age  from  thee  shall  knotv 
All  that  is  good  and  great  below  ; 
Shall  glow  with  pride  to  hand  thee  down 
To  'atest  time,  to  long  renown. 
The  brightest  name  on  freedom's  page, 
And  the  first  honor  of  our  age. 


STANZAS 

Occasioned  by  certain  absurd,  extravagant,  and  even 
blasphemous  ,  anegyrics  and  encomiums  on  the  cha 
racter  of  :h<>  late  g<n.  Washington  that  appeared  in 
several  pamphkts,  journals,  and  other  periodical  pub- 
lications,  in  January,  1800. 

No  tongue  can  tell,  no  pen  describe 
The  phrenzy  of  a  numerous  tribe, 
"Who,  by  distomperM  fancy  led, 
Insult  the  memory  of  the  dead. 

Of  old,  there  were  in  every  age 

Wha  stuff 'd  with  gods  the  historian's  pages 


WASHINGTON.  1 

AncT  raised  beyond  the  human  sphere 
Some  who,  we  know,  were  mortal  here. 

Such  was  the  case,  we  know  full  well, 
When  darkness  spread  her  pagan  spell ; 
Mere  insects,  born  for  tombs  and  graves, 
They  changed  into  celestial  knaves  ; 
Made  some,  condt?mn'd  to  tombs  and  shrouds, 
Lieutenant  generals  in  the  clouds. 

In  journals,  meant  to  spread  the  news, 
From  state  to  state — and  we  know  whose— 
We  read  a  thousand  idle  things 
That  madness  pens,  or  folly  sings, 

Was,  Washington,  your  conquering  sword 
Conderan'd  to  such  a  base  reward  ? 
Was  trash,  like  that  we  now  review, 
The  tribute  to  your  valor  due  ? 

One  holds  you  more  than  mortal  kind, 
One  holds  you  all  ethereal  m>r>d< 
This  puts  you  in  your  s -mour's  seat, 
That  makes  you  dreadful  in  retreat. 

One  says,  you  are  became  a  star, 
One  makes  you  more  resplendent*  far  ; 
One  sings,  that,  when  to  death  you  bow'd, 
Old  mother  nature  shrieked  aloud. 

We  grieve  to  see  such  pens  profane 
The  irst  of  chiefs,  the  first  of  men. — 


x          FRKNEAU'S    POEMS. 

To  Washington — a  man — who  died, 
Is  abbafather  well  applied  ? 

Absurdly,  in  a  frantic  strain, 
Why  a«k  him  not  for  sun  and  rain  ? — 
We  sicken  at  the  vile  applause 
That  bids  him  give  the  ocean  tans. 

Ye  patrons  of  the  ranting  strain, 
What  temples  have  been  rent  in  twain  ? 
Wiiat  fiery  chariots  have  been  sent 
To  dignify  the  sad  event  ? — 

O,  ye  profane,  irreverent  few, 
Who  reason's  medium  never  knew  : 
On  you  she  never  glanced  her  beams  , 
You  carry  all  things  to  extremes. 

Shall  they,  who  spring  from  parent  eartH? 
Pretend  to  more  than  mortal  birth  ? 
Or,  to  the  omnipotent  allied, 
Control  his  heaven,  or  join  his  side  ? 

O,  is  there  not  some  chosen  curse, 
Some  vengeance  due,  with  lightning's  force 
That  far  and  wide  destruction  spreads, 
To  burst  on  such  irreverent  heads  ! 

Had  they,  in  life,  be-praised  him  so, 
What  would  have  been  the  event,  I  know 
H    would  have  spurn'd  them,  with 
Or  riish'd  upon  their,  with  his  cane. 


WASHINGTON.  1.6.1 

He  was  no  god,  ye  flattering  knaves, 
He  owrid  no  world,  he  ruled  no  waves  ; 
But  —  and  exalt  it,  if  you  can, 
He  was  the  upright,  HONEST 


This  was  his  glory,  this  outshone 
Those  attributes  you  doat  upon  : 
On  this  strong  ground  he  took  his  stand. 
Such  yirtue  saved  a  sinking  land. 


REFLECTIONS 

ON   THE 

MUTABILITY  OF  THINGS—I 798. 

The  time  is  approaching  deny  it  who  may, 

The  days  are  not  very  remote, 
When  the  pageant  that  glitter'd  for  many  a  day, 

On  the  stream  of  oblivion  will  float. 

The  times  are  advancing  when  matters  will  turn, 
And  some,  who  are  now  in  the  shade, 

Anti  pelted  by  malice,  or  treated  with  scorn.. 
Will  pay,  io  the  coin  that  was  paid  : 
O  2 


162  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

The  time  it  will  be,  when  the  people  aroused,, 
For  better  arrangements  prepare, 

And  firm  to  the  cause,  that  of  old  they  espoused, 
Their  steady  attachment  declare  : 

When  tyrants  will  shrink  from  the  face  of  ine  day, 

Or,  if  they  presume  to  remain, 
To  the  tune  of  peccavi,  a  solo  will  play, 

And  lower  the  royalty  strain  : 

When  government  favors  to  flattery's  press 

Will  halt  on  their  way  from  afar, 
And  people  will  laugh  at  the  comical  dress 

Of  the  knights  of  the  garter  and  star : 

When  a^  monarch,  new  fangled,  with  lawyer  and 
scribe, 

In  junto  will  cease  to  convene, 
Or  take  from  old  EngTand  a  pitiful  bribe, 

To  pamper  his  **  highness  serene;" 

When  virtue  and  merit  will  have  a  fair  chance 
The  loaves  and  the  fishes  to  share, 

And  JEFFERSON,  you  to  your  station  advance, 
The  man  for  the  president's  chair  : 

When  honesty,  honor,  experience,  approved, 

No  more  in  disgrace  will  retire ; 
When  fops  from  the  places  of  trust  are  removed 

And  the  leaders  of  faction  retire. 


(     163     ) 


MILITARY  RECRUITING  : 


TO  A  RECRUIT  FQSD  OF  SEGAR  SMOKING. - 


-Ex  fumo  dare  lucem 


Gogitat,  ut  speciosa  dehinc  rniraciila  promat. — IIOR 


When  first  I  arrived  to  the  age  of  a  man 

And  met  the  distraction  of  care, 
As  the  day  to  a  close  rather  sorrowful  ran 
Yet  I  smiled  and  I  smoked  my  segar  : 
O,  how  sweet  did  it  seem 
What  a  feast,  wha.t  a  dream 
What  a  pleasure  to  smoke  the  segar  ! 

In  vain  did  the  din  of  the  females  assail 
Or  the  noise  of  the  carts  in  the  street, 
With  a  Spanish  segar  and  a  pint  of  good  ale 
J  found  my  enjoyment  complete  : 
Old  care  I  dismissed 
While  1  held  in  my  fist 
The  pitcher,  and  smoked  the  segar. 

What  a  world  are  we  in,  if  we  do  not  retire, 
And,  at  times,  to  the  tavern  repair 


164  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

To  read  the  gazette,  by  a  hickory  fire, 
With  a  sixpence  or  shilling  to  spare, 
To  handle  the  glass 
And  an  evening  pass 
With  the  help  of  a  lively  segar. 

The  man  of  tho  closet,  who  studies  and  reads, 

And  prepares  Tor  the  wars  of  the  bar  ; 
The  priest  who  harangues,  or  the  lawyer  who  pleads. 
What  are  they  without  the  segar  ? 
What  they  say  may  be  right, 
But  they  give  no  delight 
Unless  they  have  smoked  the  segar. 

The  farmer  still  plodding,  who  follows  his  plough. 

A  calling,  the  first  and  the  b.^st, 
Would  care  not  a  fig  for  the  sweat  on  his  bro>? 
If  he  smoked  a  segar  with  the  rest  : 
To  the  hay  loft  alone 
I  would  have  tt  unknown, 
For  there  a  segar  1  detest. 

The  sailor  who  climbs  and  ascends  to  the  yard 

Bespatter'd  and  blacken'd  with  tar, 
Would  think  his  condition  uncommonly  hard 
If  he  did  not  indulge  the  segar, 
To  keep  them  in  trim 
While  they  merrily  swim 
On  the  ocean,  to  countries  afar. 


he  soldkr  wrtfr/'e?,  in  the  mi.  st  of  the 
The  havoc  and  carnage  of  war% 


MILITARY  RECRUITING.  16$ 

Would  stand  to  his  cannon,  as  firm  as  a  rook. 
Would  they  let  him  but  smoke  his  segar  : 
Every  gun  in  the  fort 
Should  make  its  report 
From  the  fire  which  illumes  the  segar. 

Come  then,  to  the  tavern,  ye  sons  of  the  sword, 

No  fear  of  a  wound  or  a  scar ; 
If  your  money  is  gone,  your  account  will  be  scored 
By  the  lady  who  tends  at  the  bar  : 
And  this  I  can  say, 
Not  a  cent  need  you  pay 
.For  the  use  of  the  social  segar. 


LINES 


ON  THE 

ESTABLISHMENT  OF  THE  NEW  THEATRK, 

AND  THE    MANAGEMENT    OF  THE    HOUSE  BE  TNG     PLACER 
IN  THE  HANDS  OF  MR.  COOPER. 

Quid  Sophocles,  el  Thespis,  et  ^Sschylus  utile  ferrent 
Tentavit  quoque,  rein  si  digue  vertere  posset. — HOR. 

This  noble  pilp,  superbly  great, 

In  Athens,  might  have  graced  her  rtnte. 


166  FRENE ATI'S  POEMS. 

And  rivals  all  that  London  claims 

From  brilliant  scenes,  and  boasted  names. 

Whatever  the  tragic  muse  affords 
Will  here  be  told  in  glowing  words  : 
From  magic  scenes  to  charm  the  eyes 
AH  nature's  pictures  will  arise. 

And  she,  who  charms  the  sprightly  throng. 
The  goddess  of  the  comic  song 
The  muse  of  laughter,  and  ot'jest 
Will  bring  amusement,  with  tlu  rest. 

And  COOPER,  here,  who  leads  the  train 
Of  sorrow,  pleasure,  pity,  pain, 
A  Roscius,  of  superior  powers, 
The  modern  Garrick  now  is  ours. 

He  will  display  on  nature's  stage 
(Or  nature  copied  from  her  page) 
The  force  of  all  that  Shakspeare  writ, 
All  Otway's  grief  and  Congreve's  wit, 

With  him  a  chosen  band  agree 

To  make  the  stage  what  it  should  be, 

The  serious  moral  to  impart, 

To  cheer  the  mind  and  mend  the  heart. 

The  manners  of  the  age  t'improve, 
To  enforce  the  power  of  virtuous  love, 
Chaste  morals  in  the  soul  t' implant 
Which  most  admire,  and  many  waist 


THE  NEW  THEATRE.  167 

On  such  a  plan,  theatric  shows 
Do  honor  to  the  thespian  muse, 
Impart  a  polish  to  the  mind  ; 
Instruct  and  civilize  mankind. 


Ye  sages  who  in  morals  deal, 
But  all  the  pleasing  side  conceal, 
From  hence,  confess  that  morals 
As  surely  take  the  brilliant  way. 


With  such  an  object  in  our  view 

Let  Thespis  all  her  art  pursue, 

When  autumn  brings  thr  lengthening  night^ 

And  reason  to  her  least  invites.  — 


6* 

THE  PEAK  OF  PICO ; 

F  THE  AZORES,  OR  WESTERN  ISLANDS.- 

Attracted  to  this  airy  steep 

Above  the  subject  hills, 
Ocean,  from  his  surrounding  deep 

The  urn  oi'  Pico  fills* 


168  FRENEAU'S  POFMS. 

Thence  gushing  streams,  unstinted,  stray 

To  glad  the  mountain's  side  ; 
Or,  winding  through  the  Tallies,  gay, 

Through  fields,  and  groves,  and  vineyards  glide, 
To  him  the  plains  their  verdure  owe 
Confessing  what  your  smiles  bestow, 
Thou  Peak  of  the  Azores. 

From  day  to  day  the  unwearied  sail 

Surveys  your  towering  cone, 
And  when  tb'adjacent  prospects  fail, 
And  neighboring  isles  no  more  they  hail, 

You  meet  the  eye  alone. 
Twice  forty  miles  the  exploring  eye 

Discerns  you  o'er  the  waste, 
2f ow,  a  blue  turret  in  the  sky 

When  not  by  mists  embraced. 
Long  may  you  stand,  the  friendly  mark, 

To  those  who  sail  afar, 
The  spot  that  guides  the  wandering  barque, 

A  second  polar  star. 


C     169    ) 

A 

BACCHANALIAN  DIALOGUE. 

WRITTEN    1803. 

Arrived  at  Madeira,  the  island  of  vines, 
Where  mountains  and  vallies  abound, 

Where  the  sun  the  mild  juice  of  the  cluster  refines; 
To  gladden  the  magical  ground  : 

As  pensive  I  stray'd  in  her  elegant  shade, 

Now  halting  and  now  on  the  move, 
Old  Bacchus  I  met,  with  a  crown  on  his  head* 

In  the  darkest  recess  of  a  grove. 

I  met  him  with  awe,  but  no  symptom  of  fear 
As  I  roved  by  his  mountains  and  springs, 

When  he  said  with  a  sneer,  "  how  dare  you  come 

here, 
You  hater  of  despots  and  kings  ? — 

Do  you  know  that  a  prince,  and  a  regent  renown'd 

Presides  in  this  island  of  wine  ? 
Whose  fame  on  the  earth  has  encircled  it  rouud 

And  spreads  from  the  pole  to  the  line  ? 

Haste  away  with  your  barque  :  on  the  foam  of  tfc*; 

main 

'"?»  Charlestofl  I  bid  roc  repair  ' 
P 


170  FREXEAU'S  POEMS. 

There  drink  your  Jamaica,  that  maddens  the  brain ; 
You  shall  have  no  Madeira — I  swear." 

14  Dear  Bacchus,"  (I  answered)  for  Bacchus  it  was 

That  spoke  in  this  menacing  tone  : 
I  knew  by  the  smirk  and  the  flush  on  his  face 

It  was  Bacchus,  and  Bacchus  alone — 

**  Dear  Bacchus,  (I  answered)  ah,  why  so  severe  ?— 
Since  your  nectar  abundantly  flows, 

Allow  me  one  cargo — without  it  I  fear 
Some  people  will  soon  come  to  blows : 

I  left  them  in  wrangles,  disorder,  and  strife, 

Political  feuds  were  so  high, 
I  was  sick  of  their  quarrels,  and  sick  of  my  life, 

And  almost  requested  to  die." 

The  deity  smiling,  replied,  "  I  relent : — 

For  the  sake  of  your  coming  so  far, 
Here,  taste  of  my  choicest— go,  tell  them  repent, 

And  cease  their  political  war. 

With  the  cargo  I  send,  you  may  say,  I  intend 
To  hush  them  to  peace  and  repose ; 

With  this  present  of  mine,  on  the  wings  of  the  wind 
You  snail  travel,  and  tell  them,  here  goes 

A  health  to  old  Bacchus !  who  sends  them  the  best 

Of  the  nectar  his  island  affords, 
The  soul  of  the  feast  aul  the  joy  of  the  guest, 

Too  good  for  your  xnonnrchs  and  lords. 


A  BACCHANALIAN  DIALOGUE.          17.1 

ISf o  rivals  have  I  in  this  insular  waste, 

Alone  will  I  govern  the  isle 
With  a  king  at  my  feet,  and  a  court  to  my  taste. 

And  all  in  the  popular  style. 

But  a  spirit  there  is  in  the  order  of  things, 

To  me  it  is  perfectly  plain, 
That  will  strike  at  the  sceptres  of  despots  and  kings., 

And  only  king  Bacchus  remain." 


STANZAS, 

Written  at  the  island  of  Madeira,  on  the  fatal  and  wn~ 
precedented  torrents  of  water  nhich  collected  from  the 
mo-  ntains  on  <he  ninth  of  Ocfoher,  1803,  and  destroy  ~ 
ed  a  considerable  part  of  the  city  if  Funchal,  drowned 
a  vast  rummer  of  people,  and  damaged,  to  a  great  a- 
wunt,  several  plantations  and  villages  in  that  neigh* 
borhood. 

The  rude  attack,  if  none  will  tell, 
On  Bacchus,  in  his  favorite  isle  ; 
Jf  none  in  verse  describe  it  well, 
If  none  assume  a  poet's  style 
These  devastations  to  display  ;— •* 
Attend  me,  and  perhaps  I  may, 


172  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

To  those  who  own  the  feeling  heari 

This  tragic  scene  I  would  present, 
No  fiction,  or  the  work  of  art, 
"Nor  merely  for  the  fancy  meant : 
Twas  all  a  shade,  a  darkeu'd  scene, 
Old  Noah's  deluge  coine  again  1 

From  hills  beyond  the  clouds  that  soar, 

The  vaults  of  heaven,  the  torrents  run^ 
Ard  rushing  with  resistless  power, 
Assail'dthe  island  of  the  sun  : 
Fond  nature  saw  the  blasted  vine, 
And  seem'd  to  sicken  and  repine. 

As  skyward  streamYl  the  electric  fire 

The  heavens  emblazed,  or  wrapt  in  gloom ; 
The  clouds  appear,  the  clouds  retire 
And  terror  said,  "  the  time  is  come 
When  all  the  groves,  and  hil),  and  plain 
Will  sink  to  ocean's  bed  again." 

The  cheery  god,  who  loves  to  smile 
And  gladness  to  the  heart  bestows, 
Almost  resolved  to  quit  his  isle, 
.And  in  unwonted  passion  rose  ; 
He  sought  his  caves  in  wild  dismay 
And  left  the  heavens  to  have  their  way. 

The  whistling  winds  had  ceased  to  blow ; 

Not  one,  of  all  the  aerial  train — 
IV o  gale  to  aid  that  night  of  wo 

Bisturb'd  the  slumbers  of  the  main  ; 


WRITTE?rAT  MADEIRA.  173 

In  distant  woods  they  silent  slept; 
Or,  in  the  clouds,  the  tempest  kept. 

The  bursting  rains  in  seas  descend, 
Msthico*  heard  the  distant  roar, 
An<;  sig'ininjis,  wmSe  the  heavens  they  rend, 
ShMv'd  ruin  inarching  to  the  shore  : 
Egyptian  darkness  brought  her  gloom 
And  tear  foreboded  nature's  doom. 

The  heavens  on  fire,  an  ocean's  force 

Seized  forests,  vineyards,  herds,  and  men, 
And  swelling  streams  from  every  source 
Bade  ancient  chaos  come  again  : 
Through  F  mcha"s\  road  their  courses  held 
And  ocean  saw  his  waves  repell'd. 

Ill  fated  town  ! — what  works  of  pride 

In  one  short  hour  were  swept  away  ! 
Huge  pil  s  that  timeTiad  long  dcfy'd, 
In  ruthless  ruin  scatter'd  lay  : 

Some  buried  in  the  open  ing  dee p-^- 
With  crowds  dismissed  to  endless  sleep. 

From  her  fond  arms  the  daughter  torn, 
The  mother  saw  destruction  near  ; 

Both  on  the  whirling  surge  were  borne, 
Forgetftil  of  the  farewell  tear  : 


*"A  distant  village  on  the  island. 
t  The  capital  town  of  the  island . 
P  2 


174  FREIVEAU'S  POEMS. 

At  distance  torn,  with  feeble  cries, 
Far  from  her  arras  the  infant  dies. 

Her  dear  delight,  her  darling  boy 

In  morn  of  days  and  dawning  bloom, 
This  opening  bud  of  promised  joy 
Too  early  found  a  watery  tomb, 
Or  floated  on  the  briny  waste  ; 
No  more  beloved,  no  more  embraced. 

From  heights  immense,  with  force  unknown, 

Enormous  rocks  and  mangled  trees 
Were  headlong  hnrPd  and  hurrying  down, 
Fix'd  their  foundation  in  the  seas  ! 
Or,  rushing  with  a  mountain's  weight, 
Hurl'd  to  the  deeps  their  domes  of  state. 

On  heaven  intent  the  affrighted  priest 

Where  church  was  left,  to  churches  raar 
With  suppliant  voice  the  skies  addrest, 
And  wail'd  the  wickedness  of  man  : 
For  which  bethought,  this  scourge  was  meant. 
And,  weeping,  said,  repent,  repent ! 

But  Santa  Clara's  lofty  walls, 

Where  pines  through  life  the  pious  nun, 
Whose  prison  to  the  mind  recalls 
What  superstition's  power  has  done  : 
No  conquest  there  the  floods  essay  "d,. 
Relisioty guarded  man  and  maid. 


WRITTEN  AT  MADEIRA.  ITi? 

What  seena'd  beyond  the  cannon's  power. 

The  walls  of  rock,  were  torn  away  ; 
To  ruin  sunk  the  church  and  tower, 
And  no  respect  the  flood  would  pay 
To  silver  saints,  or  saints  oi  «  uod, 
The  bishop's  cap,  the  friar's  hood. 

Hard  was  their  fate !  more  happy  thoft 

The  lady  of  the  mountain  tall  ;* 
When  desolation  raged  below 

She  stood  secure,  and  scorn'd  it  all, 
Where  GORDON,!  for  retirement,  chose 
His  groves,  his  gardens,  and  the  muse. 

Who  on  this  valley's  drowning  bed 

Would  plan  a  street,  or  build  again,  ^ 

Unthinking  as  the  Brazen  head]; 

For  wretches  builds  a  source  of  pafn, 
A:  church,  a  street,  that  soon  or  late 
May  share  the  same,  or  a  worse  fate- 

Let  some  vast  bridge  assume  their  place 
Like  those  the  romans  raised  of  old. 
With  arches,  firm  as  nature's  base, 
Of  architecture  grand  and  bold  ; 
So  will  the  existing  race  engage 
The  thanks  of  a  succeeding  age. 

Senyora  da  Montana,  a  fine  church  on  a  high  emi- 

in  the  mountains 

f  A  respectable  gentleman  of  the  island. 

<f.  A  rocky  promontory  a  few  miles  eastward  of  the  capitalr 


17C  FRENEAtf'S  POEMS. 

Pontiaia*  long  must  wear  the  marks 
Of  this  wide  wasting  scene  of  wo, 
Where  near  the  Loo,  the  tar  embarks 

When  prosperous  winds,  to  wal't  him,  blow  : 
These  ravages  may  time  repair, 
But  he  and  1  will  not  be  there. 

*  The  western  quarter,  near  the  Loo  fort,  where  is  the  only 
eligible  place  of  landing. 

GENERAL  NOTE. 

From  the  best  accounts  that  could  be  procured  at  Madeira, 
there  perished  in  and  iuar  the  city  of  Fuachal,  live  hundred  and 
fifty  persons.  The  ravages  were  chiefly  confined  to  the  eastern 
parts  of  the  town  where  the  loss  was  immense  in  bridges,  houses, 
.streets  and  other  property,  public  as  well  as  private — there  was 
one  magnificent  church  totally  destroyed,  standing  near  the  sea, 
and  called  in  the  Portuguese  tongue,  Nossa  Senyora  da  Caillou, 
(lady  of  the  beach)  besides  this,  there  were  five  handsome  chapels 
carried  away.  Five  very  considerable  streets  with  their  immense 
stone  buildings  have  enth  t^ly  disappeared,  or  but  some  insignificant 
parts  remaining.  The  water  rose  in  a  short  space  of  time  from 
14  to  16  feet  in  the  adj  icent  parts  of  the  city,  and  bursting  into 
the  buildings,  where  it  did  not  much  injure  the  latter,  it  greatly 
damaged  the  mercantile  property  lodged  therein.  Tiiere  were 
about  two  hundred  persons  supposed  to  be  lost  in  other  parts  of 
the  island,  particularly  in  the  villages,  and  small  towns.  The 
following  circumstance  it  was  asserted,  added  not  a  little  to  the 
devastations  occasioned  by  the  accumulation  of  water  in  the  val- 
lies.  The  governor,  with  several  other  considerable  landholders 
in  the  mountains,  had,  for  several  years  back,  been  in  the  practice 
of  erecting  stone  dams  across  the  vast  and  spacious  valley  above 
the  city,  at  different  intervals  of  distance  for  the  purpose  of  wa 
tering  the  adjacent  grounds,  or  leading  off  streams  in  a  variety  of 
directions — when  the  immense  body  of  rain  fell  in  October  last, 
all  this  gave  way,  -and  carried  death  and  destruction  therewith. 


THE 


PEAK  OF  TENERIFPE,  I8»4, 


No  mean,  no  human  artist  laid 

Tno  base  of  this  prodigious  pile, 
The  towering  peak — but  nature  said 
Let  this  adorn  Tenaria's  isle  ; 
And  be  my  work  for  ages  found 
The  polar  star  to  islands  round, 

The  conic-point  that  meets  the  skies 

Indebted  to  volcanic  fire, 
First  from  the  ocean  bid  to  rise, 
To  heaven  was  suffer'd  to  aspire  ,* 
But  man,  ambitious,  did  not  dare 
To  plant  one  habitation  there  : 

For  torrents  from  the  mountain  came  ; 

What  molten  floods  were  seen  to  glow ! 
Expanded  sheets  of  vivid  flame, 
To  inundate  the  world  below  ! 

These,  older  than  the  historian's  page 
Once  bellow'd  forth  vext  nature's  rage, 

Ta  ages  past,  as  may  again, 

Such  lavas  from  those  ridges  run. 


178  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

And  hastening  to  the  astouish'd  main 
Exposed  earth's  entrails  to  the  sun  ; 
Thc-se,  barren,  once,  neglected,  dead, 
Are  now  with  groves  and  pastures  spread. 

IFpon  the  verdant,  scented  lawn 

The  (lowers  a  thousand  sweets  disperse, 
And  pictures,  there,  by  nature  drawn, 
Inspire  some  island  poet's  verse, 

While  streams  through  every  valley  rovt 
To  bless  the  garden,  grace  the  grove. 

To  blast  a  scene  above  all  praise 

Should  fate,  at  last,  be  so  severe, 
May  this  not  hap'  in  JULIA'S*  days, — 

While  BARREY*  dwells  all  honor'd,  here  : 
While  LITTLE*  lives,  of  generous  mind, 
Or  ARMSTRONG,*  social  as  refined. — 


*  A.  la<3y,  atid  gentlemen  of  the  first  respectability,  then  resi 
ding  at  Santa  Cruz,  san  Christoval  de  Laguna,  and  Port  Oratava 
fh  the  island  of  Teperifle 


(     179     ) 


ANSWER 


tjb  a  card  of  invitation  to  visit  a  nunnery  at  Garrickica, 
on  the  n  irth  side  of  Teneriffe. 

It  came  to  hand,  your  friendly  card, 
No  doubt,  a  token  of  regard  ; 
But  time  is  short,  and  I  must  leave 
Your  pensive  town  of  Oratave, 
And,  soon  departing,  well  you  know, 
Have  many  a  weary  mile  to  go. 

Then  stay  and  sip  canary  wines, 
While  I  return  to  oaks  and  pines, 
To  rail  at  kings,  or  court  the  muse, 
To  «rnoke  a  pipe,  or  turn  recluse, 
To  think  upon  adventures  past 
To  think  of  what  must  come  at  last — 
To  drive  the  quill— and — to  be  brief, 
To  think  no  more  of  Teneriffe. — 

How  happy  you  who  once  a  week, 
Can  storm  a  fort  at  Can  ichique, 
Or  talk,  famiiiar  with  the  nuns 
Secluded  there  with  Levi's  sons  ; 
To  see  them  smile,  or  hear  them  prate, 
Or  chant,  and  chat  b«-!»ind  the  grate  ! 
All  this  is  h<  '"^uspert. 

And  \vlio  «T->n  neglect  ? 


FRENEAU'S  POEMfc 

All  I  can  say  is  what  I  mean, 
$[ay  you  embrace  each  IphigeTM, 
And  hug  and  kiss  them  all  the  while, 
These  fair  Calypsoes  of  the  isle  : 
Then  if  what  Sappho  said,  be  true, 
Blest  as  the  immortal  gods  are  you. 

For  me,  not  favor'd  so  by  fate, 
I  venture  not  behind  the  grate  : 
There  dragons  guard  the  golden  fleece. 
And  nymphs  immured  find  no  release: 
Forbidden  fruit  you  weekly  see, 
Forbidden  fruit  on  every  tree, 
Where  he  who  tastes,  may  look  for  strife, 
Where  he  who  touches  ventures  life. 
The  jealous  priests,  with  threatening 
Look  hard  at  all  approaching  nigh  ; 
The  monks  have  charge  of  brittle  ware. 
The  friar  bids  you  have  a  care  ; 
That  they  alone  the  fruit  may  eat 
That  fills  religion's  last  retreat : 
The  mother  abbess  looks  as  sour'd 
As  if  you  had  the  fruit  devoured, 
And  bids  the  stranger  haste  aroay>*~~ 
Not  rich  enough  for  fruit  to  pay. 

How  much  unlikes  our  western  fair, 
Who  breathe  the  sweets  of  freedom's  air; 
Go  where  they  please,  do  what  they  will, 
Themselves  are  their  own  guardians  still :— - 
Then  come,  and  on  our  distant  shore 
Some  blooming  rural  nymph  adorr; 


ANSWER  TO  AN  INVITATION.  181 

And  do  not  make  the  day  remote, 
For  time  advances,  quick  as  thought, 
When  thus  some  grave  rebuke  will  say 
When  you  approach  the  maiden  gay  : 

*  You  should  have  courted  in  your  prime, 

*  Our  Anastasia's,  at  that  time 

'  When  blood  ran  quick,  and  Hymen  said, 

*  Colin  !  my  laws  must  be  obey'd.' 

Your  card  to  slight,  I'm  much  diftrest, 
Your  card  has  robb'd  me  of  my  rest : 
Should  I  attempt  the  nuns  to  accost 
The  priests  might  growl,  and  all  be  lost : 
My  cash  might  fail  me  when  to  pay  ; 
No  chance,  perhaps,  to  run  away ;-— 
So,  I  decline  the  needless  task 
Return  to  Charleston,  with  the  cask 
Of  wine,  you  send  from  Teneriffe, 
To  gkd  some  hearts,  and  dry  up  grief: 

I  add,  some  dangerous  neighbors  here 
May  disappoint  my  hopes  I  fear  ; 
The  breakers  near  the  vessel  roll  ; 
The  fee-ward  shore,  the  rocky  shoal ! 
The  whitening  sons  that  constant  lave 
The  craggy  strand  of  Oratave  ; 
The  expected  gale,  the  adjacent  rock 
Each  moment  threatens  all  our  stock, 
And  Neptune,  in  his  giant  cup 
Stands  lurking  near,  to  gulp  it  up. 
But  here's  a  health  to  Neptune's  sons 
Who  man  the  yard— nor  dream  of  nun*. 


(     182 


SENIORA  JULIA, 


LEAVING  A  DANCE,  UNDER  PRETENCE  OF  DROWSINESS 

She,  at  the  soul  enlivening,  ball, 
And  in  the  lamp  illumined  hall 

But  small  amusement  found  ; 
She  shunn'd  the  cards'  bewitching  play, 
15he  shnnn'd  the  noisy  and  the  gay, 

Nor  cared  for  music's  sound. 

No  nymph  discovered  so  much  spleen, 
Was  so  reserved  as  Julia,  seen 

On  that  enchanting  night  : 
And  yet  she  had  her  part  to  say 
When  young  Almagro  shared  the  play.. 

Then  cards  were  her  delight. 

But  he  retired,  amid  the  dance  ; 

He  heard,  he  said,  of  news  from  France, 

And  of  a  serious  cast : 
He  wish'd  to  know  beyond  all  doubt. 
What  Bonaparte  was  now  about, 

Igng  his  sway  would  last. 


8ENIORA  JULIA.  1 

Then,  Julia  made  a  good  retreat, 
But  left  the  assembly  incomplete ; 

She  was  with  sleep  oppress'd. — 
Who  shall  the  midnight  dance  prolong 
Who  lead  the  minuet,  raise  the  song 

Where  Julia  is  no  guest  ? 

Yet,  love  declared  her  judgment  right, 
And  wbisper'd,  whrn  she  bade  good  night 

And  feign'd  an  aching  head, 
14  While  some  retreat  and  some  advance, 
Let  them  enjoy  the  festive  dance, 

You,  Julia,  go  to  bed." 


LINES  ON 
8ENIORA  JULIA,  OF  PORT  ORATAVE* 


Adorn'd  with  every  charm  that  beauty  gives, 
That  nature  lends,  or  female  kind  receives, 
Good  sense  and  virtue  on  each  feature  shine  ; 
She  is — she  is  not — yes,  she  is  divine. 
She  speaks,  she  moves  with  all  attracting  grace, 
And  smiles  display  the  angrl  on  the  face ; 
Her  aspect  all,  what  female  would  not  share  ? 
What  youth  but  worship,  with  a  mind  so  fair  ? 


184  FRKNEAU'S  POEMS. 

In  this  famed  isle,  the  cloud-eapp'd  Teneriffe, 
Where  health  abounds  and  languor  finds  relief; 
In  this  bright  isle,  when  Julia  treads  the  plain, 
What  rapture  fires  the  bosom  of  the  swain. 
At  her  approach,  the  breast  untaught  to  glow, 
Like  the  vast  peak,  retains  eternal  snow. 
Feels  not  the  first,  best  ardors  of  the  mind ; 
Respect  and  awe,  to  lore  and  friendship  join'd. 

When  to  Laguna's*  heights  she  deigns  to  stray, 
To  myrtle  bowers,  and  gardens  ever  gay, 
Where  spring  eternal  on  the  fragrant  grove 
Breathes  the  bright  scenes  of  harmony  and  love  ; 
All  eyes,  attracted,  by  her  graceful  mem 
View  her,  the  unrivall'd  favorite  of  the  green, 
And  when,  too  soon,  she  would  the  garden  leave, 
See  Paradise  forsaken  by  its  Eve. 

Return,  bright  nymph,  attractive  as  admired, 
And  be  what  Plato  from  your  sex  required  ; 
Mild  as  your  clime,  that  rarely  knows  a  storm, 
The  angelic  nature  in  a  female  form. 
Canary's  f  towns  their  splendid  halls  prepare, 
But  all  is  dark,  when  Julia  is  not  there. 
Not  Oralava,  on  the  sea-beat  shore, 
In  her  gay  circles  finds  one  Julia  more, 
Not  high  |  L&velia  boasts  so  sweet  a  face  ; 
Not  Garrachica  could  yourself  replace  ; 

*  An  ancient  town  once  the  capital.    Four  miles  from  the  sea 
f  Canary,  a  large  island,  south  eastward  of  TeuerifFe. 
city  in  th*  moaataias. 


SENIOR  A  JULIA.  18$ 

Not  old  Laguna  can  supply  your  loss, 
Nor  yet  the  city  of  the  holy-cross.} 

Where  love  and   pasjsion,  from  the   world  con- 

ceal'd  : 

Devotion's  winter  has  to  frost  congeal1  tl : 
Yet  beauty,  there,  adorns  the  brilliant  dome, 
Invites  her  loves,  and  bids  her  votaries  come ; 
Fair  Santa-Cruz  her  beauty,  too,  commands, 
And,  was  but  Julia  there,  unrivali'd  stands. 

Flush'd  with  the  blessings  of  the  generous  vine, 
The  island  bards,  to  honor  you,  combine  ; 
The  stranger  guest,  all  tongues,  when  you  appear, 
Confess  you,  lovely,  charming,  all  things  dear ; 
Among  the  rest,  accept  my  homely  lay, 
The  last  respect  I  can  to  Julia  pay  : 
A  different  subject  soon  my  verse  awaits, 
Contending  powers,  or  disunited  states  ^ 
Yet  shall  remembrance  renovate  the  past, 
And,  when  you  die,  your  name  unfading  last : 
Though  mists  obscure,  or  oceans  round  m.e  swell, 
To  the  deep  seas  I  go,  the  world  to  tell 
That  Julia,  foremost,  does  this  isle  engage, 
And  moves  the  first,  bright  VENUS  of  my  page. 

Santa- Cruz,  th;  capital  -t  on  the  south  east  quarter  of  the  island. 


(     186    ) 


RURAL  NYMPH, 

Descending  from  one  of  the  Madeira  mountains,  with  a 
bundle  of  fuel  wood,  en  her  head. 

Six  miles,  and  more,  with  nimble  foot 
She  en  me  from  somesequestred  spot, 
A  handsome,  swarthy,  rustic  maid 
With  furze  and  fern,  upon  her  head  : 
The  burthen  hid  a  bonnet  blue, 
The  only  hat,  perhaps  she  knew, 
No  slippers  on  her  feet  were  seen ; 
Yet  every  step  displayed  a  mein 
As  if  she  might  in  courts  appear, 
Though  placed  by  wayward  fortune  here. 

An  english  man,  who  saw  her,  said, 
Your  burthen  is  too  heavy  laid, 
Dear  £irl  your  lot  is  rather  hard, 
And,  after  all,  a  poor  reward : 
This  is  not  labor  suiting  you, 
Come  with  me  home  to  England  go, 
And  yo-j  «5:r.v:!  bavc  •->  tssaA  h  ^••->  *:jur, 
JL  silken  gown— and  something  more,, 


A  RURAL  NYMPH.  IS? 

*  Disturb  me  not  (the  girl  replied) 
4 1  choose  to  walk — let  others  ride  : 
1 1  would  not  leave  yond'  rugged  hill 
4  To  have  your  London  at  my  will — 

*  You  are  too  great  for  such  as  I  :- ' 

When  thus  the  briton  made  reply  : 

'  Had  I  font  thirty  years  to  spare 

*  And  you  precisely  what  yon  are, 

*  H    \  «t>ea  yon  thirty  vear«  a^o 

•  le  of  living,  high  or  low, 

*  You  should  have  been  a  lady  gay, 
'  And  dizzen'd  out  as  fine  as  May  : 

*  Why  stay  you  here,  to  face  the  sun, 

*  And  drudging  till  the  day  is  ."oae, 

*  While  little  to  the  purse  it  brings 
'But  little  store  of  little  things  ?' 

Sh«  said,  *  before  the  sun  was  up 

*  I  finisit'ti  with  my  chocolate  cup : 

*  A  hank  of  yarn  I  {'airly  spun, 

*  And,  when  the  hank  of  yarn  was  done, 
'  To  have  a  fire,  and  cook  our  mess 

*  1  t  avell'd  yonder  wilderness ; 
4  I  climb'd  a  mountain  very  tall, 

*  Unwearied,  and  without  a  fall, 
'  And  gathiT'd  up  this  little  pack 

*  Which  now  you  see  me  carrying  back ;— — 

*  Your  northern  girls  at  this  might  laugh, 

*  But  such  a  jaunt  would  kill  them  half — — 
4  J    itarb  :?>     >  ;t.  J  nust  goon  ; 

'  Ten  minutes,  while  I  talk,  are  gone/— 


18g  FREtfEAU'S  POEMS. 

If  she  grew  rich  by  harJis  of  yarn, 
Is  more  than  we  shall  ever  learn  ; 
11' thrive  she  did  by  climbing  hills, 
No  history  or  tradition  tells  ; 
But  this  we  know,  and  this  we  say, 
That  where  a  despot  hoKls  the  swaj , 
To  pay  the  tax  of  king  and  queen 
The  common  herd  are  poor  and  mean. 
The  slavrs  of  lonis  the  slaves  of  priests, 
And  nearly  saddled,  like  the  beasts. — 
Where  liberty  erects  her  reign 
DM  cwa  would  have  had  her  swain, 
With  horse  and  cow — which  she  had  not, 
Nor  ever  to  possess  them  thought : 
She  would  have  had,  to  save  her  feet,    ' 
A  pair  of  shoes  and  suit  complete. 
A  decent  dress,  and  not  of  rags, 
A  state  above  the  rank  of  hags  ; 
A  language  if  not  over  fine, 
At  least  above  the  beggar's  whine. 
Yet  such  attend  on  fortune's  frowns, 
And  such  support  the  pride  of  crowns. 


OF  voi-. 


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[From  an  english  paper.] 
COOKE    THE    ACTOR. 

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COLLECTION  OF 

POEMS, 


AMERICAN    AFFAIRS,     AXD     A     VARIETY     OF     OTHER     SUBJECT^?, 
CHIEFLY    MORAL    AND    POLITICAL  J 

WRITTEN    BETWEEN    THE  YEAR    1797    AND    THE    PRE 
SENT    TIME. 


BY  PHILIP  FRENEAU, 

Author  of  Poems  written  during  ihe  Revolutionary 
War,  Miscellanies,  Sic.  &c. 

IN    TWO    VOLUMES. 

Then  England  come  ! — a  sense  of  wrong  requires 
To  meet  with  thirteen  stars  your  thousand  fires  : 
Through  these  stern  times  the  conflict  to  maintain, 
©r  drown  them,  with  your  commerce,  in  the  main. 


vor.  ii. 


NEW-YORK: 

PCBLISHFD    BY    DAVID    LONGWORTH, 

At  the  Dramatic  Repository, 
Shaksp  care-Galle  ry. 


CONTENTS   OF   VOL.    II. 

Royal  consultations  on  the  disposal  of  lord  Wellington's  army  7o 
The  brook  of  the  valley  .  .  .  .  81 

Stanzas  to  aCaty-Did,  the  precursor  of  winter  .  84 

On  the  lake  expeditions  towards  Canada  .  .  87 

Retaliation:  a  marine  ode — 1814  .  .89 

On  the  naval  attack  near  Baltimore,  September,  1314  90 

The  sutler  and  the  soldier  .  .  .  .92 

On  political  sermons  and  political  pastors  .  .        97 

Stanzas  on  Napoleon  Bonaparte  .  .100 

On  the  dismission  of  Bonaparte  from  the  french  throne  102 

On  the  battle  of  lake  Erie,  1813  .  .  .105 

On  the  battle  of  lake  Champlain  .  .          108 

On  the  death  of  general  Ross,  near  Baltimore  .  112 

On  the  engagement  of  the   privateer  brigantine 

Prince  de  Neufchatel  with  the  Endymion's  barges         .        113 
The  terrific  torpedoes ;  or,  sir  Thomas  Hardy's  soliloquy  on 

board  the  Ramillies  .  .  .  .  116 

On  the  english  devastations  at  the  city  of  Washington  124 

A  translation  from  the  third  book  of  Lucretius  on  the  nature 

of  things  .  .  .  .  .126 

The  two  Genii — an  address  to  a  young  lady  on  her  departure 

from  New- York  for  Charleston  .  .  .         129 

The  Hypochondriac :  or  picture  of  an  indolent,  repining  man  133 
Sir  Peter  petrified— at  Kent  Island,  1814  .  133 

On  finding  a  terrapin  in  the  woods,- marked  1756 
Lines  in  memory  of  captain  James  Lawrence  14 1 

On  the  britis'h  blockade,  and  the  expected  attack  on  New- 
York  .  .  .  US 
Theodosia  in  the  morning  star,  or  planet  Venus            .          146 
On  the  capture  of  the  United  States1  frigate  Essex        .          143 
Stanzas  by  a  young  lady,  on  robbing  a  bee -hive  in  a  warm 

day  in  March  ....  152 

On  the  loss  of  the  privateer  brigantine  General  Armstrong  154 
Pythona :  or,  the  prophetess  of  Endor,  and  force  of  magic  158 
On  general  Miranda's  expedition  towards  the  Caraccas  169 

Tolsmenia — in  a  severe  January  .  .  .         17[ 

The  northern  inarch — for  Chippewa  and  Bridgewater  173 


CONTENTS 

OF  THE  SECOND  VOLUME. 


On  the  prospect  of  war  and  America's  wrongs     . 

The  musical  savage,  or  power  of  music  on  the  mind  of  a  bar 
barian  . 

Epitaph  on  a  worthy  person  who  died  in  hi?  fiftieth  year 

To  the  memory  of  the  honorable  Judge  Burke,  of  S.  Car 
olina  ...... 

Stanzas  written  at  Poplar  Hill,  in  Pennsylvania  . 

On  the  symptoms  of  hostilities — 1809  .  . 

Lines  addressed  to  mr  Jefferson,   on  his  retirement  from 
the  presidency  of  the  United  States— 1 80^  ' 

Stanzas  on  the  decease  of  Thomas  Paine — 1809         . 

The  blast  of  November :  occasioned  by  an  accident  on   the 
Hudson  .  ... 

The  tomb  of  the  patriots 

The  duellists  :  a  story  known  to  be  authentic —       .  . 

lie  shipwrecked  sailor  . 

On  commercial  depredations  . 

On  the  capture  of  tht-  Guerrjere,  August  19,  1812.  . 

The  volunteer's  march — 1814         .  .  .  . 

The  battle,  of  Stonington,  August,  1814          .  . 

Heaving  the  lead  :  a  marine  story,  founded  on  fact        , 

To  the  lake  squadrons  .  . 

The  prince  regent's  resolve  .  . 

The  parade  and  sham-fight :  a  pine  forest  picture          . 

On  the  british  invasion — 1814  •.  .  . 

To  America  :  on  english  depredations  on  the  coast  • 

On  the  conflagrations  at  Washington,  August  1814         . 

On  Hunching  the  seventy  four  gun  ship  Independence         . 

A.  dialogue  at  Washington's  tomb 


FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 


ON  THE  PROSPECT  OF  WAR. 


AMERICAN  WRONGS. 

Americans  !  rouse  at  the  rumors  of  war, 

Which  now  are  distracting  the  hearts  of  the  nation, 
A  flame  blowing  up,  to  extinguish  your  power 

And  leave  you,  a  prey,  to  another  invasion ; 
A  second  invasion,  as  bad  as  the  old, 

When,  northward  or  southward,    wherever  they 

stroll'd, 
With  heart  and  with  hand,  a  murdering  band 

Of  vagrants,  came  over  to  ravage  your  land  : 
For  liberty's  guard,  you  are  ever  array'd 
And  know  how  to  fight,  in  the  sun  or  the  shade. 

Remember  the  cause  that  induced  you  to  rise 

When  oppression  advanced,  with  her  king-making 
host, 

Twas  the  cause  of  our  nation  that  bade  you  despise 
And  drive  to  destruction  all  England's  proud  host, 

Who,  with  musket  and  sword,  under  men  they  adored. 

Rush'd  into  each  village  and  rifled  each  shade 

To  murder  the  planter,  and  ravish  the  maid. 

VOT..  TT.  B 


10  FRE^EAU'S  POKMS. 

What  though  yon  arose,  and  resolved  to  be  free, 
With  spirit  to  nurable  all  Europe  combining, 

You  had  soon  bit  the  dust  or  b;en  drown'd  in  the  fiea 
By  the  slaves  of  a  king,  and  a  court  all  designing, 

Had  not  liberty  s\vore  she  would  cover  your  shore, 
Her  colors  display'd,  and  with  vengeance  repaid 

The  myriads  that  came  from  a  blood-thirsty  isle 

Our  groves,  and  our  streams,  and  our  beds  to  defile, 

Our  churches  defaced,  by  a  merciless  foe, 

Or  made  the  poor  captive's  drstress'd  habitation  : 

The  prison-ship,  fraught  with  its  cargo  of  wo, 
Where  thousands  were  starved,  without  shame 
or  compassion  ; 

All  these,  and  yet  more,  were  the  evils  we  bore 
From  a  m  iherly  dame,  Great  Britain  her  name, 

From  a  nation,  that  once  we  accounted  our  friends, 

Who  would  shackle  the  country,  that  freedom  defends. 

All  true-born  americans  !  join,  as  of  old  ; 

For  freedom's  defence,  be  your  firm  resolution  ; 
Whoever  invades  you  by  force,  or  with  gold, 

Alike  is  a  foe  lo  a  free  constitution  : 
Unite  to  pull  down  that  imposture,  a  crown  ; 

Oppose  it  ?4t  least,  tis  a  mark  of  the  beast : 
AH  tyranny *s  engines  again  are  at  work 
To  make  you  as  poor  and  us  base  as  the  turk. 

AbandonM  to  all  the  intrigprs  of  a  kna^'e, 

with  sharpers  of  every  description,  _ 


ON  THE  PROSPECT  OF  WAR.  11 

They   would   plunder  our  towns,   and   prohibit  the 

wave ; 

Their  treaties  of  commerce  are  all  a  deception  : 
Not  a  ship  do  we  send  but  they  rob  without  end  ; 
With  their  law  of  blockade  they  have  ruin'd  our 

trade  ; 

The  shops  of  mechanics  at  midnight  they  burn 
That  home  manufactures  may  cease  to  be  worn. 

Look  round  the  wide  world  ;  and  observe  with  a  sigh. 
Wherever  a  monarch  presides  o'er  a  nation, 

Sweet  nature  appears  with  a  tear  in  her  eye, 

And  the  mantle  of  sorrow  enshrouds  the  creation- 

Th«*  oc'Mii  is  o.'iainM,  all  freedom  restrained, 
The  soil  is  resign'd  to  the  pests  of  mankind, 

To  royals  and  nobles,  the  guard  of  the  throne, 

And  the  slaves  they  have  bribed,  to  make  freedom 
their  own. 

All  bail  to  the  nation,  immortal  and  great, 
Who,  rising  on  bold  philosophical  pinion, 

Reforms,  and  enlightens,  and  strengthens  the  state, 
Not  places  her  weal  in  excess  of  dominion. 

What  reason  can  do  she  intends  to  pursue  ; 
And  true  to  the  plan,  on  which  she  began, 

Will  the  volume  unfold  she  to  freedom  assijrn'd, 

Till  tyrants  are  chased  from  the  sight  of  mankind. 

Since  the  day  we  declared,  they  were  masters  no 

more, 
The  day  we  arese  from  the  colony  station, 


2  FRENEAU'3  POEMS, 

Has  England  attacked  us,  by  sea  and  by  shore, 
In  war  by  the  sword,  as  in  peace  by  vexation ; 

impressment  they  claim'd,  till  ou-  seamen,  ashamed, 
Grew  sick  of  our  flag,  that  against  the  old  hag 

Of  Britain,  no  longer  their  freedom  protected 

But  left  them,  like  slaves,  to  be  lash'd  and  corrected, 

Old  Rome,  that  in  darkness  so  long  had  been  lost, 

Since  on  her  republic  bright  freedom  was  shining  : 
The  warmth  of  her  spirit  congeal'd  in  a  frost, 

Under  tyrants  and  popes,  many  centuries,  pining  : 
At  the  close  ot  the  page,  who  can  bridle  his  rage 
To  see  her  return  to  the  fetters  she  broke, 
When  tyranny  sicken'd,  and  liberty  spoke  : 
What  an  image  ot  clay  have  they  thrown  in  her  way  ! 
The  king  auo  the  priest  on  her  carcass  will  feast ; 
When  tiieje  are  allied,  the  world  they  divide  ; 
The  nations  th^y  plunder,  the  nations  they  kill, 
And  bend  all  the  force  of  the  mind  to  their  will : 
Not  the  spirit  to  rise,  or  the  strength  to  command, 
But  i  rial's  and  monks — and  the  scum  of  the  land. — 
No  more  of  your  Aero'*,  or  Ccesars  complain, 
Leave  Brutus  and  Cato,  and  take  them  again* 

But  reason,  that  sun,  whose  unquenchable  ray 
Progressive,  hasdawn'd  on  the  night  of  the  mind. 

From  the  source  of  all  good,  may  hereafter  display, 
And  man  a  more  dignified  character  find  : 
As   far  as  example  aud  vigor  can  go, 
As  long  as  forbearance  and  patience  will  do, 
The  western  republic  mil  carry  it  through—; 


ON  THE  PROSPECT  OP  WAR.  13 

May  order  and  peace  through  the  nations  increase, 
AnJ  murder,  and  plunder,  and  tyranny  cease  : 
Mj,y  justice  and  honor  through  empires  prevail 
And  all  the  bad  passions  vreigu  light  in  the  scale, 
Till  man  is  the  being  tiwt  nature  at  first 
Placed  here,  to  be  happy,  and  not  to  be  cursed. 

Approaching,  at  hand,  in  the  progress  of  time, 
An  era  will  come,  to  begin  its  career, 

When  freedom  reviving,  and  man  in  his  prime, 
His  rights  will  assert,  and  maintain  without  fear 

Of  that  cunning,  bold  race,   who  our  species  dis 
grace  ; 

On  the  blood  of  a  nation  who  make  calculation 

To  rise  into  splendor  and  fill  a  high  station  ; 

Na,y,  climb  to  the  throne  on  a  villanous  plan 

To  plunder  his  substance,  and  trample  on  man. 


14 


MUSICAL  SAVAGE. 

express^  to  the  musician,  the  extalic  emo 
tions  of  a  missouri  indian,  on  his  Jirst  hearing  the 
violin  played,  or  band  of  music,  that  accompanied  cap 
tain  LEWIS  on  his  expedition  to  the  Columbia- River* 

1 

"  A  god  resides  within  that  shell — • 
Who  taught  it  how  to  sing  so  well  ? 
And  such  a  pleasing  story  tell  ? 

"  The  heavens  unclose — a  voice  I  hearv 
The  voice  of  joy,  the  voice  of  fear  ; 
Momcto,*  with  his  music,  uear. 

"  It  brings  a  battle  to  my  eye — 

It  makes  me  laugh — it  makes  me  cry — 

It  bids  me  rave,  I  know  not  why. 

"  You  are  my  friend,  you  are  my  foe— r 
If  longer  you  enrage  me  so, 
You  fall  a  victim  to  my  bow. 

"  Whose  tracks  arc  thrse  ? — a  warrior  chief' 
And  does  he  come  to  give  me  grief! 
Why  do  I  fear  the  falling  leaf  ? 

"  The  common  name  for  the  Supreme  Being,  smongthe  w 
orthern  Indiana. 


MUSICAL  SAVAGE. 

14  The  nerves  of  twenty  brace  rny  limbs — 
The  ice  of  death  around  me  swims — 
The  tear  of  wo  my  eye  be-dimms. 

M  Who  burnt  our  towns  ?  the  road  osage,f 
Go,  bring  his  scalp — the  battle  wage — 
A  thousand  moons  calm  not  my  rage. 

'*  The  prisoner  seized  ! — all  vengeance  take  ! 

0  no !  release  him  from  the  stake — 
Put  out  the  fire  !  his  fetters  break  ! 

<;  Rucana,  come  !  I  doat  once  more — 
Your  bosom,  with  yourself,  restore — 

1  never  miss'd  you  so  before ! 

"  I  scorch  in  flames  till  you  arrive  : 
Give  me  your  hand — your  kisses  give  ! 
For  you  1  burn — for  you  I  live. 

"  Now  strike  up  valor  from  the  string 
I  aim  the  dart — I  whirl  the  sling, 
And  now  upon  a  tiger  spring. 

"  The  shivering  blood  my  hrart  forsakes^ 
Through  every  vein  an  ague  shakes 
When  to  the  god  the  spirit  speaks ! 

"  My  soul  revives  !  the  Feast  prepare  ! 
The  stranger  shall  our  ven'son  share  — 
My  doom  is  fixt — my  heaven  is  near ! 

sages  are  a  very  powerful  nation  of  Indians,  inhabiting 
a  vast  region,  far  to  the  westward,  on  the  north  and  south  <tf 

the  immense  river  called  the  Missouri. 

% 


16  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

"  The  warrior's  ghost ! — I  bade  him  die- 
His  angry  visage  meets  my  eye- 
On  lightnings  irom  his  dart  I  fly ! 

"  He  has  me  fast! — my  fears  retire  I 
If  rioom'd  in  tortures  to  expire 
My  soul  disdains  his  hottest  tire. 

**  Unmoved  I  see  the  kindled  pile — 
Come,  tyrant,  please  yourself  awhile  : 
I  meet  your  torments  with  a  smile. 

"  A  wild  delusion  turns  my  brain, 
All  pleasure  now,  and  now  all  paio, 
I  live,  I  die,  1  live  again  ! 

"  O  stranger  !  make  me  not  so  glad-— 
O  Christian  !  make  me  not  so  sad : 
You  may  be  kill'd,  it' I  go  mad." 


EPITAPH 

A  WORTHY  PERSON,  WHOSE  DECEASE  CLOSED  A  fi£RI£& 
OF  FORTUNE  AND  MISFORTUNE  IN  HIS  50th  YEAH. 

Within  this  silent,  lonely  grave 

With  kindred  earth  my  dust  remains, 

Nor  dreads  the  chill  of  northern  blasts, 
45r  sterrnr  winds,  or  driving  raffia 


EPITAPH. 

Some  friendly  eye,  that  views  this  ground^ 
O  read !  and  drop  a  tender  tear  ; 

A  stranger,  through  the  world  I  pass'd. 
But  found  its  best  retirement  here. 

When,  midst  the  changeful  scenes  of  life, 
I  wander'd  through  the  dreary  gloom 
All  fortune's  frowns  and  smiles  I  try'd, 
And  her  last  frown  decreed  a  tomb. 

But  hush  !  the  world  I  must  forget, 
Forget  misfortune,  foes,  and  friends  ; 

The  mind  to  brighter  regions  soars, 
And  acts  and  thinks  for  nobler  ends, 


TO  THE  MEMORY  OP 
THE  LATE  jEDANUS  BURKE,  ESQ 

of  South-Carolina. 


ubi  sseva  indignatio4 
Ulterius  cor  lacerare  acquit  ! 

<A.  land  enslaved,  his  generous  heart  disdain'd 
Which  tyrants  fetter'd,  and  where  tyrants  reign'd 
Disgusted  there,  he  left  the  hibernian  shore 
The  laws  that  bound  him,  and  the  isle  that  bore. 


JFRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Bold,  open,  free,  he  call'd  the  world  his  OWD* 
Preferred  our  new  republics  to  a  throne  ; 
And  lent  his  aid  their  insults  to  repay, 
Repel  the  britons,  and  to  win  the  day. 

In  every  art  of  subtlety  untaught, 
He  spoke  no  more,  than  "  just  the  thing  he  ought  ;'* 
Fo'jnstice  warm,  he  spmn'd,  with  just  disuain, 
The  mean  evasion,  and  the  law's  chicane. 

Burke  !  to  thy  shade  we  pay  this  last  address, 
Ana  only  say  wuat  all,  who  knew,  confess  : 
Your  virtues  were  not  of  the  milder  kind, 
Bui  ragged  independence  ruled  your  mind, 
Ativi.  stern  in  all  that  binds  to  honor's  cause, 
No  interest  sway'd  yon  to  desert  her  laws. 

Then  rest  in  peace,  the  portion  of  the  just, 
Wh«re  Carolina  guards  your  honor' d  dust  : 
Brneath  a  tree,  remote,  obscure,  you  sleep, 
But  ,il!  the  sister  virtues,  round  you,  weep  ; 
Your  uat>'  e  worth,  no  tongue,  no  time  arraigns, 
That  last  memorial,  and  the  best  remains ! 


TVRITTEW 


AT  POPLAR-HILL,— PENNSYLVANIA. 


Arrived  at  Poplar-hill 

A  mansion  strikes  the  eye, 
Where  health  and  pleasure  dwell, 

Love,  peace;  and  harmony  : 
Though  distant  from  the  view, 

Fond  fancy  brings  it  near, 
Since,  pensive  Susan,  you 

Are  gone  to  inhabit  there, 

Now  at  her  spinning  wheel ; 

And  now  1  see  her  stray 
Where  willows  half  conceal 

My  wonted,  well  known,  way 
How  happy  shall  he  be, 

More  blest  than  on  a  throne, 
To  whom  the  heavens  decree 

That  mansion  for  his  own. 

Her  gardens  forni'd  with  care. 
From  this  enchanting  height, 

IT.  i  trfvs,  so  frt'si:  ana  fair, 
Are  objects  of  deiight : 


20  FRENEAU'S  POEMS, 

Manhattan's  happy  vales 
Not  so  alii  ire  my  heart : 

And  all  description  fails, 
A  likeness  to  impart. 

Ybnd*  hills,  unknown  to  fame, 

Their  streams  that  never  cease, 
The  meadows  all  proclaim 

The  golden  age  of  peace. 
Let  others  rove  at  will 

More  splendid  scenes  to  see, 
The  view  from  Poplar-hill 

Shall  be  the  view  for  me, 


ON  THE 
SYMPTOMS  OF  HOSTILITIES. 

—1809— 

But  will  they  once  more  be  engaged  in  a  war, 

Be  fated  to  discord  again  ? 
A  peace  to  the  nations  will  nothing  restore 
But  the  challenge  of  death  and  a  deluge  of  gore 
A  modern  crusade 
Is  undoubtedly  made  : — 
With  treaties  rejected,  and  treaties  renewed, 
A  permanent  treaty  they  never  conclude. 


SYMPTOMS  OF  HOSTILITIES.  21 

And  who  is  to  blame  ?  we  submissively  ask — 
Did  nature  predestine  this  curse  to  mankind  ; 

Or  is  it  the  cruel  detestable  task 
That  tyrants  impose,  with  their  minions  combined  ? 

We  are  anxious  to  know 

The  source  of  our  wo 

In  a  world  where  the  blessings  of  nature  abound 
Why  discord,  the  bane  of  her  blessings,  is  found. 

Must  our  freedom,  our  labors,  our  commerce,  our  all 

Be  tamely  surrendered,  to  tyrants  convey'd  ; 
Must  the  flag  of  the  country  disgracefully  fall, 
To  be  torn  by  the  dogs  of  the  slaughtering  trade  ? 
Does  no  one  reply, 
With  a  tear  in  his  eye, 
It  must  be  the  case,  if  we  do  not  resent 
What  monarchs  have  menaced  and  tyranny  meant. 

Not  a  ship,  or  a  barque,  that  departs  from  the  shore 

But  her  cargo  is  plundered,  her  sailors  are  slain, 
Or  arriving  in  England,  we  see  them  no  more, 
Condemned  in  the  court  of  deceit  and  chicane. 
Where  their  wicked  decrees 
And  their  costs  and  their  fees 
Have  ruin'd  the  merchant — mechanics  half  fed, 
And  sailors  uncaptured  are  begging  their  bread. 

To  reason  with  tyrants  is  surely  absurd  ; 

To  argue  with  them  is  to  preach  to  the  deaf: 
They  argue  alone  by  the  length  of  the  sword  ; 

Their  honor  the  same  as  the  word  of  a  thief. 

OT;.     Tl.  r 


22  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

In  such  to  confide 

When  a  cause  they  decide, 
Is  the  wolf  and  the  lamb  (if  the  tale  we  recall) 
Where  the  weakest  and  meekest  must  go  to  the  wall. 

But  an  englishman's  throat  is  expanded  so  wide 

Not  the  ocean  itself  is  a  mess  for  his  maw  : 
.And  missions  there  are,  and  a  scoundrel  employ 'd 
To  divide,  and  to  rule  by  the  jlorentine  law*  : 
New-England  must  join 
In  the  knavish  design, 

As  some  have  predicted  to  those  who  believe  *eut  ~9 
— The  event  is  at  hand — may  the  devil  deceive  'em, 

With  an  empire  at  sea  and  an  empire  on  land. 
And  the  system  projected,  monopolization, 
The  western  republic  no  longer  will  stand 

Than  answers  the  views  of  a  desperate  nation, 
Who  have  shackled  the  east, 
Made  the  native  a  beast, 

And  are  scheming  to  give  us — the  matter  is  clear — > 
A  man  of  their  own  for  the  president's  chair. 

Then  arouse  from  your  slumbers,  ye  men  of  the 

west, 

Already  the  Indian  his  hatchet  displays  » 
-Ohio's  frontier,  and  Kentucky  distrest ; 

The  village,  and  cottage,  are  both  in  a  blase  *— 
Then  Indian  and  english 
No  longer  distinguish, 

"*  Nicholas  Machiavel's  maxim,  divide  et  itnpera  ;  divide  2'i 
govern.     He.^ras  a  oatire  of  Florerc«%  »"a  Italy. 


SYMPTOMS  OF  HOSTILITIES.  23 

They  bribe,  and  are  bribed,  for  a  warfare  accurst  ; 
Of  the  two,  we  can  hardly  describe  which  is  worst, 

la  the  court  of  king  Hog  was  a  council  convened, 

In  which  they  agreed  we  are  growing  too  strong  ; 
They  snuffled  and  grunted,  and  loudly  complained 
The  sceptre  would  fall,  if  they  sufler'd  it  long  ; 
To  cut  up  our  trade 
Was  an  object,  they  said, 
The  nearest  and  dearest  of  all  in  their  view ; 
Not  a  fish  should  be  caught  if  old  England  said,  No  ? 

Then  arouse  from  your  slumbers,  ye  men  of  the 

west, 

A  war  is  approaching,  there's  room  to  suppose  ; 
The  rust  on  your  guns  we  abhor  and  detest, 
So  brighten  them  up — we  are  coming  to  blows 
With  the  queen  of  the  ocean 
The  prop  of  devotion, 
The  bulwark  of  all  that  is  truly  divine  ; 
A  motto  she  often  has  put  on  her  sign. 


(     24     ) 

LINES 

• 

ADDRESSED  TO  MR.  JEFFERSON, 

• 

&n  his  retirement  from  the  presidency  of  the  United 
*18fM. 


Praesenti  tibi  matures  largimur  honores  —  HOR. 

To  you,  great  sir,  our  heartfelt  prnise  WK  give, 
And,  your  ripe  honors  yield  you—  while  you  live.  , 

At  length  the  year,  which  marks  his  course,  ex 

pires, 

And  JEFFERSON  from  public  life  retires  ; 
That  year,  the  close  of  years,  which  own  his  claim, 
And  give  him  all  his  honors,  all  his  tame. 
Far  in  the  heaven  of  fame  I  see  him  fly, 
Safe  in  the  realms  of  immortality  : 
On  EQUAL  WORTH  his  honorM  mantle  falls, 
HIM,  whom  Columbia  her  true  patriot  calls  ; 
Him,  whom  we  saw  her  codes  of  freedom  plan, 
To  none  inferior  in  the  ranks  of  man. 

When  to  the  helm  of  state  your  country  calPd 
No  danger  awed  you  and  no  tear  appall  'd  ; 
Each  bosom,  faithful  to  its  country's  claim, 
FJail'd  JEFFERSON,  that  long  applauded  name  ; 


MR.  JEFFERSON.  3$ 

AU,  then,  was  dark,  and  wrongs  on  wrongs  accrued 
Oartreasitres  wasted,  and  our  strength  subdued  ; 
What  seven  long  years  of  war  and  blood  had  gain'd, 
Was  lost,  abandoned,  squandered,  or  restraint   : 
Britannia's  tools  had  schemed  their  easier  way, 
To  conquer,  ruin,  pillage,  or  betray  ; 
Domestic  traitors,  with  exotic,  join'd, 
To  shackle  this  last  refuge  of  mankind  ; 
Wars  were  provoked,  and  FRANCE  was  made  our  foe, 
Tfeat  George's  race  might  govern  all  below, 
O'er  this  wide  world,  uncheck'd,  unbounded,  reign,, 
Seize  every  clime,  and  subjugate  the  main. 

All  this  was  seen  —  anrl  rising  in  your  might, 
Bf  genius  aided,  you  reclaimed  our  right, 
TJsst  RIGHT,  which  conquest,  arms,  and  valor  gave 
T&  this  young  nation—  not  to  live  a  slave. 

And  what  but  toil  has  your  long  service  seen  ? 
Diark  tempests  gathering  o'er  a  sky  serene  — 
For  wearied  years  no  mines  of  wealth  can  pay, 
Bfo.fame,  nor  all  the  plaudits  of  that  day, 
Which  now  returns  you  to  your  rural  shade, 
Tbe  sage's  heaven,  for  contemplation  made, 
Wbo,  like  the  ROMAN,  in  their  country's  can?  £ 
JZxeft  their  valor,  or  enforce  its  laws, 
And  late  retiring,  every  wrong  redress'*], 
their  last  days  to  solitude  and  rest. 


This  great  reward  a  generous  natio 

attends  you  to  your  native  fields  ; 


02 


BRENEAli'S  POEMS. 

Their  grateful  thanks  for  every  service  clone, 
And  hope,  your  thorny  race  of  care  is  run. 

From  your  sage  counsels  what  effects  arise  t 
The  vengeful  britoii  from  our  waters  flies  ; 
His  thundering  ships  no  more  our  coasts  assail, 
But  seize  the  advantage  of  the  western  gale. 
Though  bold  and  bloody,  warlike,  proud,  and  fierce, 
They  shun  your  vengeance  for  a  MURDERED  PEARCK, 
And  starved,  dejected,  on  some  meagre  shore, 
Sigh  for  the  country  they  shall  rule  no  more. 

Long  in  the  councils  of  your  native  land, 
We  saw  you  cool,  unchanged,  intrepid,  stand  ; 
When  the  firm  CONGRESS,  still  too  firm  to  yield, 
Stay'd  masters  of  the  long  contested  field, 
Your  wisdom  aided,  what  their  counsels  framed — 
By  you  the   murdering  savages  were  tamed— 
That  INDEPENDENCE  we  had  sworn  to  gain, 
By  you  asserted  (nor  DECLARED  in  vain) 
We  seized,  triumphant,  from  a  tyrant's  throne, 
And  Britain  tctter'd  when  the  work  was  done. 

You,  when  an  angry  faction  vex'd  the  age, 
Rose  to  your  place  at  once,  and  check'd  their  rage  ; 
The  envenom'd  shafts  of  malice  you  defied, 

And  turn'd  all  projects  of  revolt  aside  : 

We  saw  you  libel  I'd  by  the  worst  of  men, 
While  hell's  red  lamp  hung  quivering  o'er  his  pen, 
And  fiends  congenial  every  effort  try 
To  blast  that  merit  which  shall  never  die — 


ilR.  JEFFERSON.  27 

These  had  their  hour,  and  traitors  wing'd  their 

flight, 
To  aid  the  sereechings  of  distracted  night. 

Vain  were  their  hopes — the  poison'd  darts  of  hell, 
Glanced  from  your  flinty  shielo\  and  harmless  fell. 

All  this  you  bore — beyond  it  all  you  rose, 
]$or  as  k'd  despotic  lam  to  crush  your  foes. 
Mild  was  your  language,  temperate  though  severe  ', 
And  not  less  potent  than  ITHURIEL'S  spear 
To  touch  the  internals  in  their  loathsome  guise, 
Confound  their  slanders  and  detect  theii  lies. 

All  this  you  graved — and,  now,  what  task  re., 

mains, 

But  silent  walks  on  solitary  plains  : 
To  bid  the  vast  luxuriant  harvest  grow, 

The  slave  be  happy  and  secured  from  no 

To  illume  the  statesmen  of  the  times  to  come 

With  the  bold  spirit  of  primeval  Rome  ; 

To  taste  the  joys  your  long  tried  service  brings, 

And  look,  with  pity,  on  the  cares  of  kings  ; 

Whether,  with  NEWTON,  you  the  heavens  explore, 
And  trace  through  nature  the  creating  power, 
Or,  if  with  morals  you  reform  the  age, 
(Alike,  in  all,  the  patriot  and  the  sage) 
May  peace  and  soil  repose,  attend  you,  still, 
In  the  lone  vale,  or  on  the  cloud-capp'd  hill, 
While  smiling  plenty  decks  the  abundant  plant* 
AIK!  hails  ASTREA  to  tiie  world  again, 


28 


STANZAS 

THE  DECEASE  OF  THOMAS  PAINE,  WHO  DIED  AT 
YORK,  ON  THE  8TH  OF  JUNE,  1809. 


Princes  and  kings  decay  and  die 

And,  instant,  rise  again  : 
But  this  is  not  the  case,  trust  me, 

With  men  like  THOMAS  PAINE, 

In  vain  the  democratic  host 

His  equal  would  attain  : 
For  years  to  come  they  will  not  boast 

A  second  Thomas  Paine. 

Though  many  may  bis  name  assume  ;. 

Assumption  is  in  vain  ; 
For  every  man  has  not  his  plume — 

Whose  name  is  Thomas  Paine. 

Though  heaven  bestow'd  on  all  its  sons 
Their  proper  share  of  brain, 

It  gives  to  few,  ye  sim  pie  oes, 
The  mind  of  Thomas  Paine. 

To  tyrants  and  the  tyrant  crew, 
Indeed,  he  was  the  bane  ; 


THOMAS  PAINE. 

He  writ,  and  gave  them  all  their  due, 
And  signed  it,— THOM  AS  PAINE. 

Oh  !  how  we  loved  to  see  him  write 
And  curb  the  race  of  Cain  ! 

They  hope  and  wish  that  Thomas  P — - 
May  never  rise  again. 

What  idle  hopes  ! — yes — such  a  mart 
May  yet  appear  again. 

When  they  are  dead,  they  die  for  aye  : 
— Not  so  with  Thomas  Paine. 


THE  BLASTS  OF  NOVEMBER. 

Occasioned  by  a  fatal  accident  on  the  Hudson. 

I  saw  a  barque,  on  Hudson's  wave  that  flies, 
Yield  to  the  blast,  that  rends  the  autumnal  skies. 
As  from  the  shore  she  took  her  dangerous  way 
Rude  gloom'd  the  sky,  and  blustering  was  the  day; 
With  pain  f  wv  the  shivering  sail  depart, 
The  blast,  too  powerful,  raock'd  the  steersman's  att ' 
In  vain  th^  h^'m  by  wary  hands  was  held, 
No  care  protected  when  the  storm  assaii'd. 


30  FfcENEAU'S  POEMS. 

-> 

The  darkening  cloud,  with  maddening  fury,  pass' 
Struck  at  the  sail,  and  bent  the  quivering  mast, — 
No  more  the  barque  her  trembling  charge  could 

save, 

But  dipp'd  her  pinions  in  the  briny  wave  : 
Then  all  was  horror,  shrieks,  abounding  wo, 
The  grave  presented  in  the  depth  below  : 
One  worthy  man  there  met  a  fato  severe, 
Suatch'd  from  the  embrace  of  all  he  valued  here  ; 
Left  all  behind,  that  could  engage  his  love, 
With  not  one  farewell,  at  this  last  remove. 

Ye  who  on  Hudson's  changeful  waters  sail, 
(And  oft  too  heedless  of  the  autumnal  gale) 
Far  mere  secure  the  enterprize,  we  deem, 
To  cut  the  yielding  wave  by  force  of  steam. 
Let  FULTON'S  art,  unrivall'd  art,  prevail, 
Nor  trust  existence  to  the  treacherous  sail. 
Since  he  applies  the  powers  that  nature  gave, 
Disarms,  and  smooths  the  dark  malignant  wave* 
Prefer  \\isplanto  all  the  sail  supplies  : 
As  he  arranged,  the  waves  may  round  you  rise," 
Waste  all  their  foam,  and  not  one  fear  impart  : 
The  height,  the  beauty,  and  the  pride  of  art. 
On  his  firm  decks  you  may  all  safety  find. 
And  scorn  the  impulse  of  the  unbridled  wind  : 
Se"  Neptune  s-car,  a  floating  palace,  move 
To  heed  no  danger  from  the  blasts  above  : 
No  tides  delay  her,  and  no  storms  alarm, 
The-  power  of  steam  can  every  blast  disarm  :-— 
Be  such  your  choice — on  such  a  barque  relys 
Afnd  death  and  danger  on  the  wave  defy. 


TOMB  OP  THE  PATRIOTS. 


— — — — Quae  Tiberine,  videbis 

Funera,  cum,  tumulum  prater  labors  receritum  I 


When  Philip's  sou  possessed  his  native  lands 
And  trailed  ongrecian  fields  hisgrecian  bands. 
In  Thebes  subdued,  or  Athens  near  her  fall, 
He  saw  no  honor,  or  despised  it  all. 
To  be  reduced  to  universal  sway 
The  world's  vast  prospect  in  perspective  lay ;~ 
While  yet  restricted  to  Larissa's  plain 
He  cursed  his  fortune  for  a  lot  so  mean, 
On  all  his  steps  the  gloom  of  sadness  hung, 
And  fierce  resentment  all  his  bosom  stung 
That  fortune's  whim  restrain'd  to  such  a  floor, 
Had  done  so  little,  and  might  do  no  more. 
M  rcantile  Tyre  his  laboring  mind  oppress'd, 
The  persian  throne  deprived  his  soul  of  rest — 

*  Occasioned  by  the  general  procession  of  many  thousands  0Y 
the  citizeus  of  New- York  on  the  26th  of  May  1808,  to  inter  the? 
bones  and  skeletons  of  aracrican  prisoners  who  perished  in  the 
old  Jersey,  and  other  prison  ships,  during  the  revolutionary 
war  :  and  which  were  now  first  discovered  by  the  wasting  of  the 
?.-n'l  b'-^lrs  on  Le!)£~T<:1and.  where  they  had  beeen  ltf'~  • 


32  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

The  world  his  stage,  he  meant  to  play  his  part. 
And  unsubjected  India  gall'd  his  heart ! 

Look  to  the  east  where  Tamerlane  displayed 
His  crescent*  moons  and  nations  prostrate  laid, 
March  where  he  would,  the  world  before  him  bow'd 

In  conquest  mighty,  as  of  conquest  proud 

What  was  the  event  ?  let  tragic  story  tell 

While  sad  sensations  in  the  bosom  swell — 

What  were  the  effects  ?  in  every  step  we  trace 

The  wasteful  havoc  of  a  royal  race, 

Once  fertile  fields  a  howling  desert  made 

The  town  in  ashes,  or  the  town  decay'd, 

Degraded  man  to  native  wildness  tnrn'd, 

His  prospects  clouded  and  his  commerce  spurn'd*— 

If  such  the  outset  of  this  mad  career 

What  will  the  last  disgusting  scene  appear, 

Of  all  he  conquer'd,  when  no  more  remains 

Than  vagrant  subjects,  or  unpeopled  plains ! 

Thus,  when  ambition  prompts  the  ardent  miad, 
The  soul,  eccentric,  frantic,  unconfined, 
To  peace  a  stranger,  soars  to  heights  unknown, 
And,  slighting  reason,  yields  the  will  to  none ; 
Mere  passion  rules,  degrading  powers  prevail. 
And  cool  reflection  quits  the  unbalanced  scale- 
It  leaves  the  haunts  of  happiness  and  rest 
To  float  on  winds,  disordered  and  unblest, 

*  The  three  crescent  moons  in  the  turkish  milt.iry  standard, 
which  had  their  origin,  It  is  said,  from  the  asiatic  Tartars.  Ti 
znurbeck  (or  Tamerlane)  was  of  tartar! an  extraction. 


TOMB  OF  THE  PATRIOTS.  ,33 

Quits  all  the  calm  that  nature  meant  for  man 
To  find  some  prize,  or  form  the  aspiring  plan  ; 
That  plan  ungain'd,  the  object  cheats  thfi  view, 
Or,  it  attained,  they  other  marks  pnr>uR  ; 
Till  ail  is  closed  in  disappointment's  shade 
And  folly  wonders  at  the  flight  she  made  : 
>\  Motion's  self  finds  every  prospect  vain, 
The  visions  vanish,  and  the  glooms  remain. 

And  such  the  vice,  with  nations  as  with  man, 
Such  the  great  ikiiing  since  the  world  began  : 
To  power  exalted,  as  to  power  they  rose 
By  honest  toils,  and  humbling  al!  their  foes; 
That  zenith  gain'd   they  eov<;t  vast  domains 
And  ?.ll,  that  pride  from  vast  possession  gains, 
Till  glittering  visions  bring  the  uneasy  sigh 
And  uncontrol'd  dominion  blasts  the  eye. 

Britain  !  we  cite  you  to  our  bar,  once  more  ; 
What  but  ambition  urged  you  to  our  shore  ? — 
To  abridge  our  native  rights,  seven  years  you  strove  ; 
Seven  years  were  ours  your  aim  of  death  to  prove, 
To  find,  that  conquest  was  your  sovereign  view ; 
Your  aims,  to  fetter,  humble,  and  subdue, 
To  seize  a  soil  which  not  your  labor  till'd 
When  the  rude  native  scarcely  we  rcoHPd, 
When,  with  unbounded  rage,  their  nations  swore 
To  hurl  the  out-Iaw'd  stranger  from  their  shore, 
Or  swell  the  torrent  with  their  thousands  slain 
No  more  to  approach  them,  or  molest  their  reign.-— 

What  did  we  ask  ? — what  right  but  reason  owns  ? 
Tet  even  the  mild  petition  met  your  frowns. 

TOL.    II.  D 


34  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Submission,  only,  to  a  monarch's  will 

Couid  calm  your  rage,  or  bid  your  storm  be  still, 

Before  our  eyes  the  angry  shades  appear 
Of  those,  whose  relics  we  this  day  inter  : 
They  live,  they  speak,  reproach  you,  and  complain 
Their  lives  were  shorten' d  by  your  galling  chain  : 
They  aim  their  shafts,  directed  to  your  breast, — 
Let  rage,  and  fierce  resentment  tell  the  rest. 

These  coffins,  tokens  of  our  last  regard, 
These  mouldering  bones  your  vengeance  might 

spared. — 

If  once,  in  life,  they  met  you  on  the  main, 
If  to  your  arms  they  yielded  on  the  plain, — 
Man.  once  a  captive,  all  respect  should  claim 
That  Britain  gave,  before  her  days  of  shame. 
How  changed  their  lot !  in  floating  dungeons  thrown. 
They  sigh'd  unpitied.  anr!  relieved  by  none  : 
In  want  of  all  that  nature's  wants  demand, 
They  met  destruction  from  some  traitor's  ham}. 
Who  treated  all  with  cieath  or  poison  here, 
Or  the  last  groan,  with  ridicule  severe. 

A  sickening  languor  to  the  soul  returns 
And  kindling  passion  at  the  motive  spurns  : 
The  murders  here,  did  we  at  length  display 
Would  more  than  paint  an  indian  tyrant's  sway  : 
Then  hush  the  theme,  and  to  the  dust  restore 
These,  oner  so  wretched  near  Manhattan's  shore, 
When  tyrants  ruled,  whose  hearts  no  mercy  felt ; 
In  blood  they  wallow'd  as  in  death  they  de'al'tV 


TOMB  OF  THE  PATRIOTS.  35 

Thou  who  shall  come,  by  sad  reflection  taught, 
To  seek  on  Nassau's  isle  this  lonely  vault  ; 
Think,  when  surveying  this  too  gloomy  scene, 
Think  what,  had  heaven   decreed,  you  might  hav* 

been. 

When,  with  the  rest,  you  pass'd  the  weary  hour 
Chun'd  or  subjected  to  some  ruffian's  power, 
Think,  as  you  see  the  sad  procession  pass'd, 
Think  what  these  are,  and  you  must  be  at  last, — 

Learn,  as  you  hope  to  find  your  heart's  applause, 
To  love  your  country  and  respect  her  laws  ; 
Revere  the  sages,  who  your  rights  explain'd 
Revere  the  patriots,  who  your  cause  sustained. 
Your  country's  HERO,  rising  to  your  view, 
Attend  his  precepts,  and  with  care  pursue, 
He  first  to  shield  you,  raised  his  powerful  arm, 
To  honor  steady  as  for  freedom  warm ; 
When  she  relumed  her  half  extinguished  fire, 
Then,  nor  till  then,  did  WASHINGTON  retire, 
And  left  alight,  a  radiance  to  display, 
And  mark  his  efforts,  when  he  led  the  way. 
When  war's  long  waste  your  independence  crowo'd 
And  Hudson  heard  th'  invigorating  sound  ! 
His  was  the  task ;  to  him  the  part  assign'd 
To  paralize  the  vultures  of  mankind. 

Admit  no  tyrants,  to  debase  your  minds  ; 
Some  selfish  motive  to  all  tyrants  binds  ; 
If  robed  in  ermine  or  in  scarlet  dad, 
ff  he  worst  of  idiots  is  a  kin£  run  mad  ; 


<J  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

And  Rome's  worst  prince  accomplish'^  by  a  word 
No  more,  than  by  his  councils,  George  the  third  ! 

How  oft  has  rugged  nature  charged  my  pen 
With  gall,  to  shed  it  on  that  worst  of  men, 
WI)  >,  dumb  to  all  that  reason  might  decide, 
Mankind,  their  reason,  and  their  prayers  defy'd  : 
Who,  linn  to  all  that  phrenzy  could  pursue, 
Exploded  the  ancient  world,  to  chain  the  new; 
A;«d  tired  the  despot,  searched  each  dark  recess. 
Ami  ransack'd  hell,  to  find  the  hireling  hesse  : — 
Could  he  be  here,  a  witness  to  this  day, 
With  calm  delight  he  would  this  scene  survey, 
Would  see  unmoved,  with  apathy  of  mind, 
The  gaping  vault,  this  havoc  of  mankind  ! 
Without  a  tear,  these  mouldering  bon»'S  review. 
That  fell  by  ruffian  hands— employ'd  by  you, 

His  phrenzy,  rampant  with  the  right  divine, 
Inspired  a  nation  with  a  black  design, 
To  blast  with  poison,  like  the  wizard's  spell, 
And  plant  on  man  the  characters  of  hell ! — 

Thou,  who  shaltcome,  of  feeling;  mind  possest. 
And,  heaven's  first  s;ift,  the  patriotic  breast, 
On  this  bleak  coast,  to  tread  the  island  plain. 
Think,  what  revenge  disgraced  a  monarch's  reign  ! 
Who,  not  content  with  wealth  and  power  we  gave, 
Forgot  the  subject,  to  enthral  the  slave  : 
Such  was  his  hop^  ; — that  hope  ton  Mize 
|f  e  sent  his  myriads  to  demand  the  prize ; 


TOMB  OF  THE  PATRIOTS.  a? 

What  were  the  splendid  trophies  he  acquired  ? 
Were  these  bleach'd  bones  the  trophies  he  admired  ^ 

While  passion  fires,  or  kindred  sorrows  fall, 
Ask  not,  it'  this  sequestered  cell  is  all, 
Is  all  that  honors  these  collected  bones  ? — 
Enough  is  done  to  stigmatize  all  thrones  : 
Ask  not,  while  passion  with  resentment  fires, 
Why  to  the  skies  no  monument  aspires  ?— 
Enough  is  done  to  rouse  the  patriot  glow 
Jknd  bid  tfye  rising  race  your  feelings  know 


THE  DUELLISTS. 

TWO  hearty  lada,  and  both  accounted  brave, 
Some  cause  of  quarrel  had,  one  gambling  night  • 

Not  either  would  the  other's  pardon  crave, 
Then  sent  a  challenge,  and  agreed  to  fight, 

Both  were,  we  heard,  from  fighting  people  sprung, 
That  loved  a  soldier,  and  proiess'd  the  trade  ; 

Both  wish'd  to  show  us,  while  their  blood  was  young, 
Beyond  ail  doubt,  that  neither  was  afraid. 

The  seconds  came,  and  took  the  usual  stand, 
To  see  them  end  their  days,  or  end  their  spite  ;. 

Each  pull'd  the  trigger,  with  a  steady  hand — 
Beth  butiets  teok  effect— aaa  both  were  right 


38     ) 


ON 

SEEING  A  BEAUTIFUL  PRINT 

OF 

A    SHIPWRECKED    SAILOR 

SITTING  ON  A  ROCK. 

O  nimium  ccelo  et  pelago  conffse  sereno, 

Nudus  in  igaota,  Palituire,  sedebis  arena  ! — VJRG 

•*  Was  ever  fortune,  in  this  world,  like  mine  ! 

Here,  seated,  shivering  on  the  naked  rock ; 
Hut  why  bewail  my  fortune,  or  repine  ! 
Though  wreck1  d  and  wretched,  all  is  for  the  best ; 
I  dare  the  worst ;  and,  like  its  flinty  breast 

Can  meet  my  fate,  and  dare  the  rudest  shock. 

Storms  round  me  rave,  no  friendly  shelter  near  ; 

My  patience  gone,  the  little  stock  I  had  : 
O  Neptune  !  bid  some  friendly  sail  appear 
To  hear  me  hence ;  I  care  not  to  what  shore, 
To  Greenland,  Zembla,  or  to  Labrador ; 

$?•  shore  too  rugged  for  the  sailor  lad," 


QN   THE 


BRITISH  COMMERCIAL  DEPREDATION S« 


As  gallant  ships  as  ever  ocean  steinm'd— 
A  thousand  ships  are  captured,  and  couderau'd  I 
Ships  from  our  shores,  with  native  cargoes  fraught* 
And  sailing  to  the  very  shores  they  ought : 
And  yet  at  peace  !— the  wrong  is  past  all  bearing  ; 
The  very  comets*  are  the  war  declaring  : 
Six  thousand  seamen  groan  beneath  your  power, 
For  years  immured,  and  prisoners  to  this  hour  : 

Then  England  come  !  a  sense  of  wrong  requires 
To  meet  with  thirteen  stars  your  thousand  fires  ; 
On  your  owu  seas  the  conflict  to  sustain, 
Or  drown  them,  with  your  commerce  in  the  main  ! 

True  do  we  speak,  and  who  can  well  deny, 
That  England  claims  all  water,  land,  and  sky 
Her  power  expands — extends  through  every  zone, 
N or  bears  a  rival—but  must  rule  alone. 
To  enforce  her  claims,  a  thousand  sails  unfurl'd 
Pronounc*  their  home  the  cock-pit  Oi  the  world ; 

;  A  large  comet  appeared  for  several  months,  about  this  time. 


40  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

The  modern  Tyre,  whose  fiends  and  lions  prowl, 
A  tyrant  navy,  which  in  time  must  howl.* 
Heaven  send  the  time — the  world  obeys  her  nod : 
Her  nods,  we  hope,  the  sleep  of  death  forebode ; 
Some  mighty  change,  when  plundered  thrones  agree* 
And  plundered  countries,  to  make  commerce  free,. 


ON   THE 

CAPTURE  OF  THE  GUERRIERE, 

Captain  D  acres,  August  19,  1812  —  by  the  Constitution, 
American  frigate,  capt.  Hull. 

AN    IRREGULAR   ODE, 

" 

Long  the  tyrant  of  our  coast 
Reign'd  the  famous  Guerriere  i 

Our  little  uavy  she  deiy'd, 
Public  ship  and  privateer  : 

On  her  sails  in  letters  red, 

To  our  captains  were  display  5d 

Words  of  warning!  words  of  dread, 


s&piB  of  Targhish,  #e.~  £*e 


CAPTURE  OF  THE  GUERRJERE.          41 

All,  rvho  meet  me,  ham  a  care  I 
I  am  England's  Guerriere.* 

On  the  wide,  Atlantic  de-p 

(Not  her  equal  for  the  fight) 
The  CONSTITUTION,  on  her  way, 

Chanced  to  meet  these  men  of  might  : 
On  her  sails  was  nothing  said, 
But  her  waist  the  teeth  displayed 
That  a  deal  of  blood  coiiM  «hed. 

Which,  if  she  would  venture  near, 

Would  stain  the  decks  of  the  Guerriere. 

Now  our  gallant  ship  they  met — 

And,  to  struggle  with  John  Bull -7- 
Who  bad  come,  they  little  thought, 

Strangers,  yet,  to  Isaac  Hull : 
Better,  soon,  to  be  acquainted  : 
Isaac-  hail'd  the  lord's  anointed — 
While  the  crew  the  cannon  pointed, 

And  the  balls  were  so  directed 

With  a  blaze  so  unexpected  ; 

Isaac  did  so  maul  and  rake  her 

That  the  decks  of  captain  Dacres 

Were  in  such  a  woful  pickle 

As  if  death,  with  scythe  and  sickle, 
With  his  sling,  or  with  his  shaft 
Had  cut  his  harvest  fore  and  aft. 

*  Female  wajrior,  or 


42  FRENEAU'S  POEMS, 

Thus,  in  thirty  minutes  ended, 
Mischiefs  that  could  not  be  mended  r 
Masts,  and  yards,  and  ship  descended 
All  to  David  Jones'  locker — 
Such  a  ship  in  such  a  pucker  ! 

Bilnk  about  to  the  Constitution ! 

She  perform'd  some  execution 
Did  some  share  of  retribution 

For  the  insults  of  the  year 
When  she  took  the  Guerriere. 

May  success  again  await  her, 
&et  who  will  again  command  her 

Bainbridge,  Rodgers,  or  Decatur — 
Nothing  like  her  can  withstand  her, 

With  a  crew,  like  that  on  board  her 
Who  so  boldly  calPd  "  to  order" 

One  bold  crew  of  english  sailors, 
Long,  too  long  our  seamen's  jailors^ 

Dacre'  and  tha  Guerriere ! 


(    43    ) 


VOLUNTEER'S  MARCH,* 

July,  1814. 

Dulceest  propatria  mori. 

Te,  whom  Washington  has  led, 
Ye,  who  in  his  footsteps  tread, 
Ye,  who  death  nor  danger  dread. 
Haste  to  glorious  victory. 

Now's  the  day  and  now's  the  hour; 
See  the  british  navy  lour, 
See  approach  proud  George's  power, 
England  !  chains  and  slavery. 

Who  would  be  a  traitor  knave  ? 
Who  would  fill  a  coward's  grave? 
Who  so  base  to  be  a  slave  ? 

Traitor,  coward,  turn  and  flee. 

*  This  little  ode,  with  the  addition  of  two  new  stanzas  is  some 
what  altered  from  one  of  Robert  Burns'  compositions,  and  ap 
plied  to  an  american  occasion  :  the  original  boiog  Brace's  suppo 
sed  address  to  his  army,  a  little  before  the  battle  of  Banso2k> 
bournp, 


44  PRENEAF'S  POEMS. 

Mrrt  the  tyrants,  one  and  all ; 
Freemen  stand,  or  freemen  fall— 
At  Columbia's  patriot  call, 

At  her  mandate,  march  away  I 

Former  times  have  seen  them  yield, 
Sfrtn  them  drove  from  every  field, 
Rout'  d,  ruin'd,  and  repell'd — 

Seize  the  spirit  of  those  times  ! 

By  oppression's  woes  and  pains — 
BY  our  sons  in  servile  chains 
We  will  bleed  from  all  our  vpins 
But  they  shall  be — shall  be  free. 

O'er  the  standard  of  their  power 
Bid  Columbia's  eagle  tower, 
Give  them  hail  in  such  a  shower 

As  shall  blast  them — horse  and  man  • 

Lay  the  proud  invaders  low, 
Tyrants  fall  in  every  foe  ; 
Liberty's  in  every  blow. 

Forward !  let  us  do  or  die. 


THE 


BATTLE  OF  STONINGTON, 


ON  THE  SEABOARD  OF  CONNECTICUT  J 

In  an  attack  upon  the  tonn  and  a  small  fort  of  trco  guns, 
by  the  Ramillies,  seventy -four  gun  ship,  commanded  by 
sir  Thomas  Hardy ;  the  Pactolus,  38  gun  ship,  Des 
patch  brig  of  22  guns,  and  a  razee,  or  bomb  ship.- — 
August,  1814. 

Four  gallant  ships  from  England  came 
Freighted  deep  with  fire  and  flame, 
And  other  things  we  need  not  name, 
To  have  a  dash  at  Stonington 

Now  safely  moor'd,  their  work  begun  ; 
They  thought  to  make  the  yankees  run, 
And  have  a  mighty  deal  of  fun 

In  stealing  sheep  at  Stonington, 

A  deacon,  then  popp'd  up  his  head 
And  parson  Jones's  sermon  read, 
In  which  the  reverend  doctor  said 

That  they  must  fight  for  Stonington, 
VOL.  IT,  JC 


46  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

A  townsman  bade  them,  next,  attend 
To  sundry  resolutions  penn'd, 
By  which  tbf-y  promised  to  defend 

With  sword  and  gun,  old  Stonington, 

The  ships  advancing  different  ways, 
The  britons  soon  b<-^;in  t,>  blaze, 
And  put  th'  old  worn*  n  in  amaze, 

Who  fear'd  the  loss  of  Stouington, 

The  yankees  to  theiv  fort  repair' d, 
And  made  as  thoagh  they  little  cared 
For  ail  that  came — though  very  hard 

The  cannon  play'd  on  Stonington* 

The  Ramillies  began  the  attack, 
Despatch  came  forward — buio  and  black— 
And  none  can  tell  what  kept  them  back 
From  setting  fire  to  fetoniugton. 

The  bombardiers  with  bomb  and  ball, 
Soon  made  a  farmer's  barrack  fall, 
And  did  a  cow-house  sadly  maul 

That  stood  a  mile  from  StoningtoB. 

They  kill'd  a  goose,  they  kill'd  a  hen, 
Thr^e  hogs  they  wounded  in  a  pen — 
They  dash'd  away,  and  pray  what  then  ? 
This  was  not  taking  Stonington, 


BATTLE  OF  STONfNGTOJT.  47 

The  shells  were  thrown,  the  rockets  flew, 
But  not  a  shell,  of  all  the}  threw, 
Though  every  house  was  full  in  VJPW, 

Could  burn  a  house  at  Stonington. 

To  have  their  turn  they  thought  but  fair  ; — 
The  yankers  brought  two  guns  to  bear, 
And,  sir,  it  would  have  made  you  stare, 

This  smoke  of  smokes  at  Stonington. 

They  bored  Pactolus  through  and  through, 
An«'  killed  and  wounded  of  her  crew 
So  many,  that  she  bade  adieu 

T'the  gallant  boys  of  Stonington. 

The  brig  Despatch  was  hull'd  and  torn — 
So  crippled;  riddled,  so  forlorn, 
No  more  she  east  an  eye  of  scorn 

On  th'  little  fort  at  Stonington. 

Th^  Ramillies  gave  up  th'  affray 

And.  with  her  comrades,  sneak'd  away— 

Such  was  the  valor,  on  that  day, 

Of  british  tars  near  Stonington. 

But  some  assert,  on  certain  grounds, 
(Besides  the  damage  and  the  wounds) 
Jt  cost  the  king  ten  thousand  pounds 
To  have  a  dash  at  Stonington  c 


HEAVING  THE  LEAD  : 


A  MARINE  STORY,  FOUNDED  ON  FACT 


As  toward  the  land  the  galley  flew, 
Though  many  a  league  she  had  to  go 
Before  the  shores  would  come  in  view, 

The  pilot  told  them,  heave  the  lead  I 

The  master  saw  no  danger  near ; 
The  wind  was  fair,  the  sky  was  clear : 
He  said,  what  can  the  lubber  fear  ? 

Avast,  my  boys,  dont  heave  the  lead. 

Thus  folly  rule  when  prudence  fails  : 
The  master  said,  go,  trim  the  sails — 
In  ocean  water,  what  avails 

To  wet  the  line,  or  heave  the  lead  ? 

So  onward  with  a  steady  breeze, 
And  all  reclining  at  their  ease 
They  scudded  through  the  darkened  seas, 
Not  caring  much  about  the  lead. 

At  last,  the  sun,  declining  low, 
A  curtain  on  the  waters  threw, 
And  all  was  closing  on  the  view  ; 

A  hint,  no  doubt,  to  heave  the  lead. 


HEAVING  THE  LEAD.  49 

A  sail<?r  watcii'd  the  passing  wave, 
Ann  warning  to  his  fellows  gave, 
"  A  tinge  of  green  the  waters  have  ! 

By  heavens,  tis  time  to  heave  the  lead." 

The  captain  shook  his  measured  sand — 
The  log  declared  him  far  from  Und — 
He  said,  **  I'll  venture  my  command 

There  is  no  bottom  for  the  lead  ; 

The  sun  has  told  me  truth  at  noon, 
JVIy  observations  by  the  moon 
Do  all  agree,  that  we  shall  soon 

Have  no  occasion  for  the  lead/* 

"  Well,  be  it  so.  the  pilot  cry'd  ; 
You  are  our  sure  and  steady  guide, 
Your  knowledge  cannot  be  .iemed, 

But  let  us,  blockheads,  heave  the  lead/' 

"By  all  the  fish  that  swim  the  deep, 
By  all  that  on  its  bottom  creep, 
By  all  the  winds  that  o'er  it  sweep, 

You  shall  not,  pilot,  heave  the  lead  ! 

"  Tis  I,  who  have  the  chief  command, 
Tis  I  conduct  you  to  the  land, 
So,  round  about,  the  bottle  hand, 

And  trouble  not  the  line  and  lead." 

B  2 


SO  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

They  drank  about,  the  galley  flew, 
And  caution  from  the  helm  withdrew, 
Till  muddy-green  the  waters  grew, 

And  no  one  cared  about  the  lead  *, 

At  length,  on  Sable-island*  shoals 
The  vessel  struck,  with  twenty  souls  ; 
And  o'er  her  decks  the  ocean  rolls  : 

So  much  for  heaving  not  the  lead  ! 

And  yet,  the  fates  were  surely  kind  : 
The  ship  to  ruin  was  consign'd, 
But  twenty  men  their  safety  find 

Where  no  one  needs  to  heave  the  lead  ! 

Two  months,  and  more,  in  hermit  style 
They  governed  this  sequester'd  isle 
But  thinking  often  all  the  v>  hile, 

Tis  best,  in  time,  to  heave  the  lead. 


*  Its  latitude  is  44°2'  N.  L.  long.  60°201  west  of  the  meridian 
0f  Greenwich.  A  settlement  has  lately  been  established  on  H 
from  H4ifax,  from  which  it  lies  eastwardly  120  miles,. 


THE  LAKE  SQUADRONS, 

The  brilliant  task  to  you  assigned 
Asks  every  effort  of  the  mind, 
And  every  energy,  combined, 
To  crush  the  foe. 

Sail  where  they  will,  you  must  be  there  ; 
Lurk  where  they  can,  you  will  not  spare 
The  blast  of  death — but  all  things  dare 
To  bring  them  low. 

To  wield  his  thunders  on  Champlain, 
MACDONOUGH  leads  his  gallant  train, 
And,  his  great  object  to  sustain^ 
Vermont  unites 

Her  hardy  youths  and  veterans  bold 
From  sheltered  vale  and  mountain  cold, 
Who  fought,  to  guard,  in  days  of  old 
Their  country's  rights. 

That  country's  wrongs  are  all  your  own. 
And  to  the  world  the  word  is  gone — 
Her  independence  must  to  none, 
Be  sign'd  away. 


52  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Be  to  the  nation's  standard  true, 
To  Britain,  and  to  K<;rop»   shew- 
That  you  can  fight  and  conquer  too, 
And  prostrate  lay. 

That  bitter  toe,  whose  thousands  rise 
No  more  to  fi2;ht  us  in  disguise, 
But  i:ount  our  freedom  lor  their  prize, 
It' valor  fails; 

Beneath  your  feet  let  fear  be  cast, 
ReiiKmber  deeds  of  valor  past. 
And  nail  your  colors  to  the  mast 

And  spread  your  sails. 

In  all  the  pride  and  pomp  of  war 
Let  thunders  from  tiie  cannon  roar, 
And  lightnings  flash  from  shore  to  shore, 
To  wing  the  ball. 

Let  Huron  from  his  slumbers  wake, 
Bi .'  &rie  to  his  centre  shake, 
Till,  foundering  in  Ontario's  lake, 

You  swamp  them  all  ! 


53 


THE 


PRINCE  REGENT'S  RESOLVE, 


The  regent  prince,  enraged  to  find 

The  standard  from  his  frigates  torn, 
To  a  full  court  thus  spoke  his  mind, 
With  hand  display'd  and  soul  of  scorn, 
44  Since  fate  decreed  Napoleon's  fall, 
Now,  now's  the  time  to  conquer  all  t 

44  We  at  the  head  of  all  that's  great, 

Tis  ours  to  hold  the  world  in  awe  : 
Let  Louis  reign  in  regal  state, 

And  let  his  subjects  own  his  law ; 
Their  tide  of  power  tis  ours  to  stem-*- 
We'll  govern  those  who  govern  ihetn. 

"  But  here's  the  rub,  and  here's  my  grief; 

My  frigates  from  the  seas  are  hurl'd ! 
What  shall  we  do  ?  how  find  relief? 
How  strike  and  stupefy  the  world  ? 
Our  flag,  that  long  control'd  the  main, 
Our  standard  must  be  raised  again. 

"  A  land  there  lies  towards  the, west, 
There  must  my  royal  will  be  done  ; 


FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

That  land  is  an  infernal  nest 
Or  reptiles,  rul'd  by  MADISON  : 

That  nest  I  swear  to  humble  down, 
There  plant  a  king,  and  there  a  crown.' 

"  Depart,  my  fleet,  depart,  my  slaves, 
Invade  that  nest,  attack  and  burn  ; 
Where'er  the  ocean  rolls  his  waves, 
Subu'ue,  or  dare  not  to  return  ; 
Subdue  and  plunder  all  you  can  ; 
Who  plunders  most — shall  be  my  man, 

"  To  scatter  death,  by  fire  and  sword, 

To  prostrate  all,  where'er  you  go  : 
That  is  the  mandate,  that  the  word, 
Though  seas  of  blood  around  you  flow  : 
No  more  ! — go.  aid  the  Indian  yell  : 
Be  conquerors,  and  I'll  feed  you  well 

So  spoke  the  prince,  but  little  knew 

His  minions  werr  for  slaughter  fed  ; 
Nor  did  he  guess,  that  vengeance,  too, 
Would  fall  on  his  devoted  head  ; 
When  all  his  plans  and  projects  fail, 
And  he  ascends  Belshazzar's  scale.* 


*  Mene  mene,  Tekel,   Peres  ! — tliou  art  weished  in  the  bal 
ance,  and  art  found  wanting  !  —Daniel. 


PARDAE  AND  SHAM-FIGHT  : 


A    PINE    FOREST    PICTURE— ON    A    TRAINING   DAT, 


•  invictaque  bello 


Dextera  !  non  illi  se  quisquam  impune  tulisset 
Obvius  armato VIR«, 

The  drum  was  beat,  the  flap  displayed, 
The  soldiers  met  upon  parade, 
And  all  for  action  ready  made 

With  loud  huzza ! 

When  forth  a  stately  figure  strode,. 
Of  stature  such,  of  such  a  mode, 
As  those  who  lived  before  the  flood, 
If  stuff'd  with  straw. 

His  vigor  seem'd  by  years  unbroke  ; 
But  then  his  phiz  had  such  a  look, 
As  if  preserved  in  Etna's  smoke 
For  half  au  age, 


50  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

God  help  us  all  to  look  our  best ! 
This  man  was  captain  of  the  rest, 
And  valor  seem'd  to  fire  his  breast 
With  martial  rage, 

His  horse  was  of  an  iron  grey  ; 

(A  prancing  steed  he  rode  that  day,) 

Not  of  the  bold  Virginian  breed, 

Nor  yet  remote  from  Quixote's  steed. 

This  chief  was  of  the  bullet  mould  ; 
To  meet  the  conflict,  firm  and  bold, 
His  coat  was  patch'd,  his  boots  new  soal'd. 
Ham  stuff 'd  his  maw : 

Two  pounds  of  powder  fill'd  his  horn, 
His  pantaloons  were  old  and  worn, 
A  cap  and  hat  his  head  adorn — 
The  chapeau  bras. 

With  vengeance  heated,  long  in  store, 
He  sallied  forth,  a  man  of  war  ; 
And  all  that  meet  him,  pray  take  care 
Of  rusty  pikes. 

He  had  no  helmet  for  the  head, 
But  drath  and  ruin  near  him  tread. 
And  slaughter,  in  a  suit  of  red, 

That  deadly  strikes. 


PARADE  AND  SHAM-FIGHT.  57 

A  blanket  from  his  shoulders  hung, 
Three  dollars  in  his  pockets  rung, 
And  to  his  thigh  a  fanlchion  clung, 
That  made  us  quake  . 

A  veteran  in  the  fighting  trade  I 
The  owner  of  so  keen  a  blade  ! 
Do  not  provoke  him,  man  or  maid, 
For  mercy's  sake. 

O  could  you  but  one  furlong  ride 
With  such  a  faiilchion  at  your  side, 
Your  bosom  would  for  glory  beat 
And  show  Napoleon  all  complete  ! 

Two  pistols,  to  his  girdle  tied, 
Foreboded  vengeance,  far  and  wide, 
To  all  that  were  not  on  our  side, 

With  heart  and  hand, 

Accoutred  thus,  with  martial  air, 

He  gave  the  warning  word,  "  Take  care  !" 

And,  in  a  moment,  all  was  war, 

Sublime  and  grand. 

They  mareh'd,  and  march'd,  as  thick  as  bees, 
Then  march'd  towards  a  clump  of  trees ; 
And  "  blaze  away !"  the  leader  says— • 

"  Each  take  his  aim  ! 
-<*T*.  ii.  F 


FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

"  Who  wounds  a  tree  can  kill  a  man — 
"  If  you  but  practise  on  that  plan, 
"  The  britons  shall  go  home  again 

With  grief  aad  shame  !'» 

Not  Philip's  famed,  unrivall'd  son, 
For  Greece  subdued,  or  India  won, 
Not  Cockburn,  burning  Washington, 
Look'd  so  elate  : 

Not  Bonaparte,  on  Egypt's  sands 
With  such  importance  gave  commands, 
With  such  discretion  train'd  his  bands, 
Assumed  such  state ! 

Not  Ccesar,  when  he  pass'd  the  Rhine, 
Not  Warlborough  leading  up  his  line, 
Not  PERRY,  when  he  said,  *k  they're  mine  !' 
Put  on  such  airi ; — 

As  now  were  shown  to  front  and  rear 
When  victory  seem'd  to  hover  near. 
Indeed  not  purchased  very  dear — 

No  wounds  nor  scars. 

Departing  from  the  norman  shore,  j 
Not  William  such  a  feature  wore 
When  England  hail'd  him  con  ,ueror, 
With- loud  acclaim  : 


PARADE  AND  SHAM-FIGHT.  59 

Not  Fulton,  when  his  steam  he  try'd, 
And  Neptune's  car  stemm'd  Hudson's  tide 
Felt  such  a  generous  glow  of  pride 
For  well  earn'd  fame. 

That  day  Cornwallis  met  his  fate, 
Not  Washington  felt  half  so  great 
When  tow'rd  him  flew  the  gallic  fleet 
To  share  his  smile  : 

Not  conquest  had  for  Gates  such  charms 
When,  yielding  to  the  victor's  arms, 
He  bade  Burgoync  resign  his  arms, 
In  soldier's  style. 

Not  Ajax'  self,  with  such  a  grace 
Gave  orders  to  attack  a  place  ; 
Not  Hannibal  with  holder  face 

Approached  old  Rome, — 

When  marching  for  the  Tiber  shore, 
He  yet  his  alpine  jacket  wore, 
And  hoped  to  sweep  the  senate  floor, 
And  fix  their  doom : 

Not  Parker,*  when  he  crossed  the  bar 
Of  Charleston  with  his  men  of  war, 
Was,  nearjbrt  Moultrie,  half  so  sure 
Of  victory  gain'd  : 

*  Sir  Peter  Parker,  it  is  well  remembered,  attacked  fort  MouL 
trie,  on  Sullivan's  Island,  in  1776,  and  after  a  sanguinary  action, 
was  repulsed  with  great  loss. 


CO  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Not  Parker,  when  departing  thence 
So  fihatter'd — at  the  king's  expense — 
Was  so  provoked  at  the  defence, 
Felt  so  chagrined, 

As  did  our  chief  (no  captain  Brag) 
When  he  perceiv'd  some  worthless  wa» 
Had  stolen  away  the  brandy  keg — 
Ah !  loss  indeed  ! 

For  this,  he  swore  he  would  resign, 
All  future  trust  in  man  decline  ; 
Of  whom,  at  least,  there  was  one  srvint,. 
They  all  agreed — 

And  cry'd  "  like  hell  his  heart  is  black- 
Pursue  him,  boys,  and  scent  his  track, 
If  drunk  or  dead,  we'll  have  him  back, 
This  man  of  scum !" 

Each  took  his  mark,  and  hit  a  tree  ; 
The  battle's  done  ! — all  sober,  we  ; 
Jluzza  !  we  have  the  victory  ! 

Then  scamper'd  home  f 


6N   THE 


BRITISH  INVASION.— 1SH. 


From  France,  desponding  and  betray'd, 
From  liberty  in  ruins  laid, 
Exulting  Britain  has  display'd 

Her  flag,  again  to  invade  us, 

Her  myrmidons,  with  murdering  eye, 
Across"  the  broad  Atlantic  fly 
Prepared  again  their  strength  to  try, 

And  strike  our  country's  standard. 

Lord  Wellington's  ten  thousand  slaves,* 
And  thrice  ten  thousand,  on  the  waves, 
And  thousands  more  of  brags  and  braves 
Are  under  sail,  and  coming 

*  Lord  Wellington's  army  embarked  on  the  river  Garonne > 
Prance  in  several  division,  for  the  invasion  of  the  Unit*  I  Statw, 
aooantiDg,  it  was  said,  to  sixty  or  icvcnty  thousar 
F  2 


FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

To  burn  our  towns,  to  seize  our  soil, 
To  change  our  laws,  our  country  spoil, 
And  MADISON  to  Elba's  isle 

To  send  without  redemption. 

In  Boston  state  they  hope  to  find 
Ayankee  host  of  kindred  mind 
To  aid  their  arms,  to  rise  and  bind 

Their  countrymen  in  shackles 

But  no  such  thing— it  will  not  do— 
At  least,  not  while  a  JJERIEV  BLUE 
Is  to  the  cause  of  freedom  true, 

Or  the  bold  Pennsylvania!!. 

A  curse  on  England's  frantic  schemes  ' 
Both  mad  and  blind-hep  monarch  dreams 
01  crowns  arid  kingdoms  in  these  climes, 

Where  kings  hare  had  their  sentence 

Though  Washington  has  left  our  coast, 
Fet  other  Washington  we  boast 
^ho  rise,  instructed  by  his  ghost, 

To  punish  all  invaders. 


. 

peering,  plundering,  pirate  band, 
ney  liberty  will  find  at  hand 

To hurlthera  to  perdition: 


BRITISH  If 


!!,in  Vfr*inia  the  7  appear, 

ieaih  inthe*Xlt^ird°°m •"  "^^ 

So  says  the  gallant  buckskin. 

AH  Carolina  ,-g  prepared, 
^^-vbairlestoB  doubly  ( 


are 
So  blasted  by  fortMouMrfe. 

^farther  south  they  turn  their  vie,vs, 
With  veteran  troops,  or  veteran  cre^s 


ies 
o  send  them  all  a-packing: 

J-e  tallest  mast  that  sails  (he  ,rare 
Tn,;.ongfst  tee)  its  waters  lave, 
W,Jibr,nS  them  to  an  early  grave 

On  the  shores  of  Pensacola. 


TO  AMERICA: 

ON    THE    ENGLISH    DEPREDATIONS    ON    THE    AMERICAN 
COAST. 

When  Alfred  held  the  english  throne, 
And  England's  self  was  little  known. 
Yet,  when  invaded  by  the  Dane, 
He  early  faced  them  on  the  main. 

That  scythian  race  who  ruled  the  sea- 
He  soon  pronounced  their  destiny  ; 
To  leave  his  isle,  to  sheath  the  sword  ; 
Disgraced,  defeated,  and  abhorr'd. 

So  now,  these  worse  than  danes  appear 
To  do  their  deeds  of  havoc  here — 
For  all  they  did  in  seasons  past, 
The  day  of  grief  must  come  at  last. 

For  plains,  yet  white  with  human  bones, 
For  murders  past,  no  prayer  atones  ; 
For  ruin  spread  in  former  yea;*, 
Not  even  the  mitred  clergy's  tears. 

Let  us  but  act  the  part  we  ought, 
And  tyrants  will  be  dearly  taught 
That  they,  who  aid  a  country's  claim, 
Fight  aot  for  ribands,  or  a  name. 


TO  AMERICA.  65 

Still  hostile  to  the  rights  of  man, 
A  deadly  war,  the  english  plan  ; 
The  gothic  system  will  prevail, 
To  ruin  where  they  can  assail ; 
A  war,  where  seas  of  blood  may  flow 
To  ornament  their  scenes  of  wo. 

O  Washington  !  thy  honored  dust 
The  foe  will  not  profane,  we  trust ; 
Or  if  they  do,  will  vengeance  sleep, 
Or  fail  to  drive  them  to  the  deep  ? 

For  shores  well  known,  they  shape  their  course, 
An  english  fleet,  with  all  its  force  ; 
A  british  fleet  may  soon  appear 
To  ravage  all  we  counted  dear. 

Advancing  swift,  by  beat  of  drum, 
Half  England's  dregs,  or  Scotland's  scum  j 
With  these  unite  the  indian  tribes, 
Now  hostile  made  by  force  of  bribes — 
And  they  will  dare  the  eagle's  frown, 
Though  half  his  force  can  put  them  down. 

The  envenom'd  foe,  inured  to  war, 
May  scatter  vengeance  wide  and  far, 
Unless,  to  assert  our  country's  right, 
All  hearts  resolve,  all  hands  unite. 

Let  party  feuds  be  hush'd,  forgot, 
Past  discord  from  the  memory  blot. 


€«  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

And  Britain,  fiorn  our  coasts  repell'd, 
Shall  rue  the  day  she  took  the  field. 

The  dart,  to  assail  the  english  power, 
In  time  must  reach  that  hostile  shore, 
And  red  with  vengeance,  on  its  way, 
Their  naval  power  in  ruins  lay. 

The  western  world  a  blow  must  deal 
To  let  them  know,  and  make  them  feel 
That  much  too  long  a  plundering  hag 
Has  mortified  all  Europe's  flag. 

By  wars  and  death  while  despots  thrive 
What  pity  one  remains  alive  ! 
By  them  the  seeds  of  wars  are  sown, 
By  them,  our  lives  are  not  our  owu. 

Their  deadly  hate  to  freedom's  growth, 
To  reason's  light — that  spurns  them  both, 
That  deadly  hate  predicts  our  doom, 
And  digs  the  pit  for  freedom's  tomb. 

Be  not  deceived— the  league  of  kings, 
Confederate  crowns,  this  warfare  brings , 
These  send  their  hosts  to  forge  our  chains, 
Harass  our  shores,  renew  their  reigns. 

At  Pilniis  they  who  join'd  to  swear 
And  wa^e  with  France  wide  wasting  war 
Til!  freedom  should  her  claims  recall, 
And  Louis  reign,  or  myriads  fall ; 


TO  AMERICA.  €7 

At  Pilnitz,  with  decided  aim, 
They  tbrm'd  their  schemes  to  blast  our  fame  : 
And,  faithful  now  to  what  they  swore, 
Would,  kings  dismissed  and  thrones,  restore. 

Ye  hearts  of  steel,  observe  these  hosts  ! 
The  odious  train  my  soul  disgusts ; 
They  rise  upon  the  vultures  wings 
To  prop  the  tottering  cause  of  kings. 

Observe  them  well — through  every  grade 
They  exercise  the  robber's  trade ; 
They  sail  upon  a  plundering  scheme, 
They  march,  to  give  you  sword  and  flame. 

And  burn  you  must,  if,  slow  to  act, 
You  wait  to  see  your  cities  sack'd, 
Yourselves  enslaved,  and  all  things  lose 
That  labor  earns  or  wealth  bestows  ; 
If  slow  to  send  your  heated  balls, 
Indignant,  through  their  wooden  walls. 

O  may  you  see  their  squadrons  yield 
Their  legions  sink  on  every  field  ; 
And  new  Burgoynes,  to  slaughter  bred, 
Burgoynes,  once  more,  in  fetters  led. 

And  may  you  see  all  foreign  power 
Forever  banish'd  from  your  shore, 
And  see  disheartened  tyrants  mourn, 
4nd  Britain  to  her  hell  return. 


ON    THE 


CONFLAGRATIONS  AT  WASHINGTON; 


August  24,  1814. 


Jam  deiphobi  dedit  ampla  ruinam, 

Volcano  superante,  domus  j  jam  proximus  ardet 
Wcakgon.  YIR«L. 


Now,  George  the  third  rules  not  alone, 
For  George  the  vandal  shares  the  throne. 
True  flesh  of  flesh  and  bone  of  bone. 

God  save  us  from  the  fangs  of  both ; 
Or,  one  a  vandal,  one  a  goth, 
May  roast  or  boil  us  into  froth. 

Like  danes,  of  old,  their  fleet  they  man 

And  rove  from  Beersheba  to  Dan, 

To  burn,  and  beard  us — where  they  cao. 

They  say,  at  George  the  fourth's  comraanil 
This  vagrant  host  were  sent,  to  land 
And  leave  in  every  house — a  brand; 


CONFLAGRATIONS  AT  WASHINGTON. 

An  idiot  only  would  require 
Such  war — the  worst  they  could  desire— 
The  felon's  war — the  war  of  fire. 

The  warfare,  now,  th'  invaders  make 
Must  surely  keep  us  all  awake, 
Or  life  is  lost  tor  freedom's  sake. 

They  said  to  Cockburn,  "  honest  Cock  ! 
To  make  a  noise  and  give  a  shock 
Push,  off  and  burn  their  navy  dock  : 

"  Their  capitol  shall  be  emblazed  ! 
How  will  the  buckskins  stand  amazed, 
And  curse  the  day  its  walls  were  raised  !" 

Six  thousand  heroes  disembark — 
Each  left  at  night  his  floating  ark 
And  Washington  was  made  their  mark. 

That  few  would  fight  them — tew  or  none — 

Was  by  their  leaders  clearly  shown — 

And  "  down,"  they  said,  **  with  Madison  ."'" 

How  close  they  crept  along  the  shore  ? 
As  Closely  as  if  Rodger s  saw  her — 
A  frigate  to  a  seventy-four. 

A  veteran  host,  by  veterans  led, 
With  Ross  and  Cockburn  at  their  head — 
They  came — they  saw — they  burnt— and  fled, 
VOL,  ii.  G 


*0  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

But  not  uiipunfch'd  tl-ey  retired  ; 
Th<  y  something  paid,  lor  all  they  fired, 
In  M>!diers  kill'd,  and  chiefs  expired. 

Five  hundred  veterans  bit  the  dust, 
Who  came,  inflamed  with  lucre's  lust— 
An.!  so  they  waste — and  so  they  must. 

They  left  our  congress  naked  walls — 
Farewell  to  towers  and  capitols  ! 
To  lofty  roofs  and  splendid  halls ! 

To  courtly  domes  and  glittering  things, 

To  folly,  that  too  near  ns  clings, 

To  courtiers  who — tis  well — had  wings. 

Farewell  to  all  bnt  glorious  war, 
W-.icti  yet  shall  guard  Potomac's  shore, 
And  honor  lost,  and  fame  restore. 

To  conquer  armies  in  the  field 
WV.  once,  the  surest  method  held 
To  make  a  hostile  country  yield. 

The  mode  is  this,  now  acted  on  ; 
In  c:o  triagrating  Washington, 
They  held  our  independence  gone  ! 

Supposing  George's  house  at  Kew 
Wfci'O  burnt,  (as  we  intend  to  do,) 
Would  tnat  be  burning  England  too  ? 


CONFLAGRATIONS  AT  WASHINGTON.    71 

Supposing,  near  the  silver  Thames 
We  luid  in  ashes  their  saint  James, 
Or  Ble.iheim  palace  wrapt  in  n*ames; 

Made  Hampton  Court  to  fire  a  prey, 
And  meanly,  then,  to  sneak  away, 
And  never  ask  them,  what's  to  pay  ? 

Would  that  be  conqur-ring;  Lou-ion  town  ? 
Would  that  subvert  the  e n % <ish  throne, 
Or  bring  the  royal  system  down  ? 

With  all  their  glare  of  guards  and  guns, 
How  would  they  look  like  simpletons, 
And  not  at  ail  the  lion's  sons  ! 

Supposing,  then,  we  take  out  turn 
And  make  it  public  law,  to  bum, 
Would  not  old  english  honor  spurn 

At  such  a  mean  insidious  plan 
Which  only  suits  some  savage  clan — 
And  surely  not — the  english  man  ! 

A  doctrine  has  prevailed  too  long ; 
A  king,  they  hold   can  do  no  nrong— 
Merely  a  pitch-fork,  without  prong : 

Bntde'il  may  trust  such  doctrines,  more, — 
One  king,  that  wrong' d  us,  long  IK  lore, 
Has  wrongs,  by  hundreds,  yet  in  store, 


72  FRENEAU'S  POEMfe. 

He  wrong'd  us  forty  years  ago  ; 
He  wrongs  us  yet,  we  surely  know  ; 
He'll  wrong  us  till  begets  a  blow 

That,  with  a  vengeance,  will  repay 
The  mischiefs  we  lament  this  day, 
This  burning,  damn'd,  internal  play ; 

Will  send  one  city  to  the  sky, 

Its  buildings  low  and  buildings  high, 

And  buildings — built  the  lord  knows  why  ; 


Will  give  him  an  eternal  check 
That  breaks  his  heart  or  br 
And  plants  eur  standard  on 


That  breaks  his  heart  or  breaks  his  neck,. 


ON    THE 

LAUNCHING 

OF  THE 

SEVENTY-FOUR  GUN  SHIP 
INDEPENDENCE, 

AT 

CHARLESTOWN,  NEAR  BOSTON, 

Our  trade  to  restore  as  it  stood  once  before 
We  have  launched  a  new  ship  from  the  storks, 

Her  rate  is  our  first,  and  her  force  will,  we  trust, 
Be  sufficient  to  humble  the  hawks  ; 

The  hawks  of  old  England  we  mean,  dont  mistake, 

Some  harpies  of  England  our  prizes  we'll  make. 

INDEPENDENCE  her  name,  independent  our  minds, 

And  prepared  for  the  toils  of  the  sea, 
We  are  ready  to  combat  the  waves  and  the  winds, 

And  fight  till  the  ocean  is  free  ; 
Then,  away  to  your  stations,  each  man  on  our  list 
Who,  when  danger  approaches,  will  never  be  miss'd 
G  2 


H  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

In  asserting  our  rights  we  have  rather  been  slow 

And  patient  till  patience  was  tired  ; 
We  were  plunder'd  and  press'd  ere  we  ventured  a 
blow 

Til!  the  world  at  our  patience  admired, 
And  hnguage  was  held,  of  contempt  and  disgrace, 
And  Europe  mis-call'd  us  a  pitiful  race. 

Twas  time  to  arise  in  the  strength  of  our  might 

When  MADISON  publish' d  the  war. 
And  many  have  thought  that  he  would   have  beee 
right 

Had  he  published  it  three  years  before  ; 
While  France  was  unpcster'v  with  traitors  and  knaves, 
Nor  Europe  polluted  with  Wellington's  slaves. 

To  arm  for  our  country  is  never  too  late, 

No  tetters  are  yet  on  our  feet ; 
Our  hands  are  more  free,  and  our  hearts  are  as  great 

As  the  best  in  the  enemy's  fleet  : 
An<i  look  at  the  list  of  their  navy,  and  think. 
How  many  are  left,  to  burn,  capture,  and  sink  1 

Let  the  nations  of  Europe  surrender  the  sea, 

Or  crouch  at  the  fool  of  a  throne  ; 
In  liberty's  soil  we  have  planted  her  tree, 
And  her  rights  will  relinquish  to  none  : 
Then  stand  to  your  arms, 
Then  stand  to  your  arms, 

Then  stand  to  your  arms — half  the  battle  is  done 
Aad  bravely  accomplish  what  valor  begun, 


LAUNCHING  THE  INDEPENDENCE.        7,5 

The  day  is  approaching,  a  day  not  remote, 

A  day  with  impatience  we  hail, 
When  Decatur  and  Hull  shall  again  be  afloat, 

And  Bainbridge  commission'd  to  sail ; 
To  raise  his  blockades,  will  advance  on  the  foe, 
And  bulwark  with  BULL  to  the  bottom  shall  go. 

On  the  waves  of  Lake  Erie  we  show'd  the  old  brag 

We,  too,  could  advance  in  a  line, 
And  batter  their  frigates  and  humble  their  flag  ; 

"  I  have  met  them,"  said  Perry,  "they're  mine  !" 
And  so,  my  dear  boys,  we  can  meet  them  again 
On  the  waves  of  the  sea,  or  the  waves  of  Champlain. 

To  the  new  INDEPENDENCE  then,  pour  out  a  glass, 

And  drink,  with  the  sense  of  a  man  : 
She  soon  will  be  ready,  this  pride  of  her  class, 

Sir  Thomas*  to  meet  on  his  plan  : 
He  hates  our  torpedoes — then  teaze  him  no  more, 
Let    him  venture    his  luck  with  our   SEVENTY- 
FOUR. 

Then  stand  to  your  arras,  you  shall  ne'er  be  enslay'd, 
Let  the  battle  go  on  till  the  nation  is  saved  ! 

*>  Sir  Thomas  Hardy,  of  the  Ramillies  74. 


A  DIALOGUE 


WASHINGTON'S  TOMB. 


GENIUS  OF  VIRGINIA— AND VIRGINIA 

Genius.  Who  are  these  that  lawless  come 

Washington  !  too  near  thy  tomb  ? — 
Arr  they  those  who,  long  before, 
Came  to  subjugate  this  shore  ? — 
Arc1  they  those  whom  he  repell'd, 
Captured,  or  imprisoned  held  ? 
Or  the  sons  of  those  of  old 
Cast  in  nature's  rudest  mould, — 
Dear  Virginia,  can  it  be  ? 
What  a  stain  is  laid  on  thee  ! 

'Virginia.  Such  a  stain  as  I  do  swear 

FilK  my  swelling  heart  with  care 
How  to  wash  away  the  stain, 
How  to  be  myself  again. 
From  my  breast  the  h^ro  rose, 
In  my  soil  his  booes  repose  : 
But  this  insnit  to  thy  shade, 
Washington,  shall  be  repaid. 


DIALOGUE. 

Genius.  Dear  Virginia  !  tell  me  how  ?— * 
Tell  me  not,  or  tell  me  now. 
Can  you  wield  the  bolts  of  Jove, 
Seize  the  lightnings  from  above  ? 
Tear  the  mountain  from  its  base 
To  confound  this  hated  race. 
Who,  with  hostile  step,  presume 
To  violate  the  honor'd  tomb 
Of  my  bravest,  noblest  son, 
Of  th'  immortal  Washington  I 

Virginia.  Not  the  artillery  of  the  sky, 

Not  the  vengeance  from  on  high 
Did  I  want,  to  guard  my  son, 
I  have  lightnings  of  my  own  ! 
But  I  wanted 

Genius. Wauted  what  ? 

Tell  me  now,  or  tell  me  not. 

Virginia.  Men,  whom  Washington  had  taught, 
Men  of  fire,  and  men  of  thought, 
All  their  spirits  in  aglow, 
Ever  ready  for  the  foe  ; 
Born  to  meet  the  hostile  shock, 
Sturdy  as  the  mountain  oak — 
Active,  steady,  on  their  guard, 
For  the  scene  of  death  prepared ; 
Such  I  wanted — say  no  more  ; 
Time,  perhaps,  may  such  restore. 


78  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Genius.  By  the  powers  that  guard  this  spot, 
Want  them  longer  you  shall  not, 
I,  the  patron  of  your  land, 
From  this  moment  take  command, 
Kindle  llames  in  every  breast, 
Thirst  of  vengeance  for  the  past ; 
Vengeance,  that  from  shore  to  shore 
Shall  dye  your  bay  with  english  gore, 
And  see  them  leave  their  thousands  slain, 
If  they  dare  to  land  again  : 
Thi*  is  all  I  choose  to  say — 
Seize  your  armour — let's  away ! 


ROYAL  CONSULTATIONS  ,• 


RELATIVE    TO    THE    DISPOSAL    OF 


LORD  WELLINGTON'S  ARMY. 


Said  the  goth  to  the  vandal,  the  prince  to  the  king, 
Lf  t '  s  do  a  mad  action,  to  make  the  world  ring  : 
With  Wellington's  army  we  now  have  the  means 
To  make  a  bold  stroke  and  exhibit  new  scenes. 


ROYAL  CONSULTATIONS.  79 

A  stroke  at  the  states  is  iny  ardent  desire, 
To  waste,  and  harass  them  with  famine  and  fire ; 
Mv  vengeance  to  carry  through  village  and  town, 
And  even  to  batter  their  capitol  down. 

j 

The  vandal  then  answer'd,  and  said  to  the  goth, 
Dear  George,  with  yourself  I  am  equally  wroth  : 
Of  Wellington's  army  dispose  as  you  please, 
It  is  best,  I  presume,  they  should  go  beyond  seas  ; 
For,  should  they  come  fume,  I  can  easily  show 
The  hangman  will  have  too  much  duty  to  do. 

So,  away  came  the  bruisers,  and  when  they  came 

here 

Some  mischief  they  did,  where  no  army  was  near  : 
They  came  to  correct,  and  they  came  to  chastise 
And  to  do  all  the  evil  their  heads  could  devise. 

At  Washington  city,  they  burnt  and  destroy'd 
Till  among  the  big  houses  they  made  a  huge  void  ; 
Then  back  to  their  shipping  they  flew  like  the  wind, 
But  left  many  more  than  five  hundred  behind 
Of  wounded  and  dead,  and  others  say,  double  ; 
And  thus  was  the  hangman  excused  from  some  trouble, 

Alexandria  beheld  them  in  battle  array  ; 
Alexandria  they  plunder' d  anight  and  a  day. 
Then  quickly  retreated,  with  moderate  loss, 
Their  forces  conducted  by  Cockburn  and  Ross, 

At  Baltimore,  next,  was  their  place  of  attack  ; 
Bat  Baltinaore  dreve  thsai  repeatedly  back  , 


80  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Therp  Rodgers  they  saw,  and  their  terror  was  siicb, 
They  saw  they  were  danm'd  when  they  saw  him  ap 
proach. 

The  forts  were  assail'd  by  the  strength  of  their  fleet, 
And  tl.e  fort*,  in  disorder  behold  them  retreat 
So  shbtfor'd  and  crippled,  so  mangled  and  sore, 
That  the  tide  of  Pata^sco  was  red  with  their  gore. 

Their  legions  by  land  no  better  succeeded — 
In  vain  they  manoeuverd,  in  vain  they  paraded, 
Their  hundreds  on  hundreds  were  strew9 d  on  the 

ground, 

Each  shot  from  the  rifles  brought  death  or  a  wound. 
One  shot  from  a  buckskin  completed  their  loss, 
And  their  legions  no  longer  were  headed  by  ROSS  ! 

Where  they  mean  to  go  next,   we  can  hardly  de~ 

vise, 
But  home  they  would  go  if 'their  master  was  wise. 

Yet  folly  so  long  has  directed  their  course  ; 
Such  madness  is  seen  in  the  waste  of  thfir  force, 
Such  weakness  and  folly,  with  malice  combined, 
Srch  rancor,  revenge,  and  derangement  of  mind, 
T;  at,  all  things  considered,  with  truth  we  may  say. 
Both  Cochrane  and  Cockburn  are  running  away.* 


*  About  this  time,  September,  1814,  the  admirals  Cochrane 
and  Cockburn  quitted  the  coast  of  the  United  States  in  their  re 
spective  flag  Ships. 

- 


ROYAL  CONSULTATION.  81 

To  their  regent,  the  prince,  to  their  master  the  king 
They  are  now  on  the  way,  they  arc  now  on  the  wing, 
To  tell  them  the  story  of  loss  and  disaster, 
Onr;  begging  a  pension,  the  other  a  plaister. 
Let  them  speed  as  they  may.  to  us  it  is  plain 
Thc^y  will  patch  up  their  hulks  tor  another  campaign, 
Their  valor  to  prove,  and  their  havoc  to  spread 
When  Wellington's  army  is  missing  or  dead. 


THE 


BROOK  OF  THE  YALLEY. 


The  world  has  wrangled  half  an  age, 
And  we  again  in  war  engage, 
While  this  sweet,  sequestered  rill 
Murmurs  through  the  valley  still. 

All  pacific  as  you  seem : 
Such  a  gay  elysian  stream  ;— 
Wire  you  always  thus  at  rest 
How  the  valley  would  be  blest. 

But,  if  always  thus  at  rest ; 
This  would  not  be  for  tUe  best : 
ii.  & 


32  FRENEAU'S  POEMS, 

In  one  summer  you  would  die, 

And  leave  the  valley  parch' d  and  dry. 

Tell  me,  where  your  waters  go, 
Purling  as  they  downward  flow  ? 
Stagnant,  now,  and  now  a  fall  ? — 
To  the  gulph  that  swallows  all. 

Flowing,  peaceful,  from  your  urn 
Are  your  waters  to  return  ? — 
Though  the  same  you  may  appear, 
You're  not  the  same  we  saw  last  year. 

Not  a  drop  of  that  remains — 
Gone  to  visit  other  plains, 
Gone,  to  stray  through  other  woods. 
Gone,  to  join  the  ocean  floods ! 

Yes — they  may  return  once  more 
To  visit  scenes  they  knew  before  ; — 
Yonder  sun,  to  cheer  the  vale, 
From  the  ocean  can  exhale 

Vapors,  that  your  waste  supply, 
Turn'd  to  rain  from  yonder  sky ; 
Moisture,  vapors,  to  revive 
And  keep  your  margin  all  alive. 

But,  with  all  your  quiet  flow, 
Do  you  not  some  quarrels  know  ! 
Lately,  angry,  how  you  ran  ! 
All  at  war — and  much  like  man. 


THE  BROOK  OF  THE  VALLEY.   83 

When  the  shower  of  waters  fell, 
How  you  raged,  and  what  a  swell ! 
All  your  banks  you  overflowed, 
Scarcely  knew  your  own  abode ! 

How  you  battled  with  the  rock  ! 
Gave  ray  willow  such  a  shock 
As  to  menace,  by  its  fall, 
Underwood  and  bushes,  all  : 

Now  you  are  again  at  peace  : 
Time  will  come  when  that  will  cease ; 
Such  the  human  passions  are  ; 
— You  again  will  war  declare. 

Emblem,  tbou,  of  restless  roan  ; 
What  a  sketch  of  nature's  plan ! 
Now  at  peace,  and  now  at  war, 
Now  you  murmur,  now  you  roar  ; 

Muddy  now,  and  limped  next, 
Now  with  icy  shackles  vext — 
What  a  likeness  here  we  fi&d  ! 
What  a  picture  of  mankind  ! 


A    CATY-DID.* 


ID  a  branch  of  willow  hid 
Sings  the  evening  Caty-did  : 
From  the  lofty  locust  bough 
Feeding  on  a  (Jrop  oi%  dew, 
In  her  suit  of  green  array'd 
Hear  her  singing  in  the  shade 

Caty-did,  Caty-did,  Caty-did ! 

While  upon  a  leaf  you  tread, 
Or  rv  pose  your  little  head, 
On  y.'JLr  sheet  of  shadows  laid, 
All  tht  day  you  nothing  said : 
Hair'  the  night  your  cheery  tongue 
Revell'd  out  its  little  song, 

Nothing  else  but  Caty-did. 


*  A  well  kaowa  insect,  when  full  grown,  about  two  inches  in 
length,  £iui  of  the  *x;«ct  color  of  a  green  leaf  It  is  of  the  genus 
cit  ada,  o»  ^Trsshc^j.^:  iii. -.  IB  irJ;;  in^  the  green  foliage  of  trees 
and  singing  such  a  note  as  Cuty-did  in  the  evening,  towards  au 
tumn.. 


TO  A  CATY-DID.  85 

From  your  lodgings  on  the  leaf 
Did  you  utter  joy  or  grief—? 
Did  you  only  mean  to  say, 
/  have  had  my  summer's  day, 
And  am  passing,  soon,  (may 
To  the  grave  of  Caty-did  : — 

Poor,  unhappy  Caty-did ! 

But  you  would  have  utter'd  more 
Had  you  known  of  nature's  power-— 
From  the  world  when  you  retreat, 
And  a  leaf's  your  winding  sheet, 
Long  before  your  spirit  fled, 
Who  can  tell  but  nature  said, 
Live  again,  my  Caty-did  ! 

Live,  and  chatter  Caty-did. 

Tell  me,  what  did  Caty  do  ? 
Did  she  mean  to  trouble  you  ? — 
Why  was  Caty  not  for  bid 
To  trouble  little  Caty-did  ?— 
Wrong,  indeed  at  you  to  (ling, 
Hurting  no  one  while  you  sing 

Caty-did  !  Caty-did  !  Caty-did  ! 

Why  continue  to  complain  ? 
Caty  tells  me,  she  again 
Will  not  give  you  plague  or  pain  : — 
Caty  says  you  may  be  hid 
Caty  will  not  go  to  bed 
While  you  sing  us  Caty-did. 

Caty-did':  Caty-did!  Caty-did! 
H  2 


86  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

But,  while  singing,  you  forgot 
To  tell  us  what  did  Caty  not : 
Caty-did  not  think  of  cold, 
Flocks  retiring  to  the  fold, 
Winter,  with  his  wrinkles  old, 
Winter,  that  yourself  foretold 

When  you  gave  us  Caty-did, 

Stay  securely  in  your  nest ; 
Caty  now,  will  do  her  best, 
All  she  can,  to  make  you  blest ; 
But,  you  want  no  human  aid — 
Nature,  when  she  form'd  you,  said, 
"  Independent  you  are  made, 
My  dear  little  Caty-did  : 
Soon  yourself  must  disappear 
With  the  verdure  of  the  year,1' — 
And  to  go,  we  know  not  where, 
With  your  song  oi'Caty-dicL 


OS  THE 


LAKE  EXPEDITIONS. 


Where  Niagara's  awful  roar 
Convulsive  shakes  the  neighboring  shore, 
Alarm'd  I  heard  the  trump  of  war, 

Saw  legions  join  ! 

And  such  a  blast,  of  old,  th^y  blew, 
When  southward  ••  rom  st.  Lawrence  flew 
The  indian,  to  the  english  true, 

Led  by  Burgoyne. 

United,  then,  they  sail'd  Champlain, 
United  now,  they  march  again, 
A  land  of  freedom  to  profane 

With  savage  yell. 

For  this  they  scour  the  mountain  wood  ; 
Their  errand,  death,  their  object,  blood  : 
For  this  they  stem  thy  subject  floo  !, 
O  stream  Sorel ! 


gg  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Who  shall  repulse  the  hireling  host, 

Who  force  them  back  through  snow  and  frost, 

Who  swell  the  lake  with  thousands  lost, 

Dear  freedom  ?  say  ! — 

Who  but  the  sons  of  freedom's  land, 
Prepared  to  meet  the  Woody  band  ; 
Resolved  to  make  a  gallant  stanu 

Where  lightnings  play. 

Their  squadrons,  arm'd  with  gun  and  sword, 
Their  legions,  led  by  knight  and  lord 
Have  sworn  to  see  the  reign  restored 

Of  George,  thegoth; 

Whose  mandate,  from  a  vandal  shore, 
Impels  the  sail,  directs  the  oar, 
And,  to  extend  the  flames  of  war, 

Employs  them  both. 


RETALIATION, 

A  MARINE  ODE. 
—1814.— 

*•  Ye  powers  who  rule  the  western  gale 
Not  for  the  golden  fleece  we  sail, 
Nor  vet  on  wild  ambition's  plan, 
But  vengeance  gathers  man  with  man. 

For  wrongs  which  wearied  patience  bore? 
For  slighted  rules  of  legal  war, 
We  rear  our  flag,  our  sails  display, 
And  east  north  east  explore  our  way. 

Let  some  assert,  ten  thousand  pounds 
Would  place  our  feet  on  british  grounds, 
And  urge  us  onward  to  saint  James 
To  wrap  his  palaces  in  flames  : 

A  motive  of  so  mean  a  cast 
Allures  no  mind,  excites  no  breast ; 
From  such  reward  we  loathing  turn 
And  would  at  such  a  proffer  spurn. 

No — to  retaliate  on  the  foe, 
Free-wiird,  we  independent  go, 
Our  ship  well  mann'd,  in  war's  attire, 
To  light  the  skies  with  english  fire. 


FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

November  comes  !  tis  time  to  sail, 
The  nights  are  long  and  brisk  the  gale 
A»:«l  England,  soon,  the  odds  may 
Between  our  hatred  and  our  love." 


NAVAL  ATTACK  NEAR  BALTIMORE, 

EPTE  MBER  14,  1814. 


The  sons  of  old  ocean  advancer1  from  the  bay 

To  achieve  an  exploit  of  renown  . 
And  C^chrane  and  Cockburn  commanded,  that  day, 
And  meant  to  exhibit  a  tragical  play, 

Call'd,    The  plunder  and  burning  of  Baltimore 
town. 

Tb '  scenes  to  be  acted  were  not  very  new, 

An    ivhenth^yapproach'd.  with  their  rat- tat-too, 

As  merry  as  times  would  allow. 
We  ran  up  the  colors  to  liberty  true, 
And  gave  them  a  shot,  with  a  tow-row-dow. 

i 
By  land  and  by  water  how  many  have  faii'd 

In  attacking  an  enemy's  town, 


ATTACK  ON  BALTIMORE.  SI 

But  britons  they  tell  us,  have  always  prevaiPd 
Wherever  they  march'd,  or  wherever  they  saiPd, 
To  honor  his  majesty's  sceptre  and  crows  : 
Wherever  they  went,  with  the  trumpet  and  drum, 
And  the  dregs  of  the  world,  and  the  dirt,  and  the 

scum, 

As  soon  as  the  music  begun, 
The  colors  were  struck,  and  surrendered  the  towi 
When    the  summons    was  given  of  down,  down, 
down  ! 

But  fortune,  so  fickle,  is  turning  her  tide, 

And  safe  is  old  Baltimore  town, 
Though  Cockburn  and  Cochrane,  with  Ross  at  their 

side, 

The  sons  of  Columbia  despised  and  defy'd, 
And  determined  to  batter  it  down  ; 
Rebuff5  d  and  repulsed  in  disgrace  they  withdrew. 
With  their  down,  down,  down,  and  their  rat-tat-tot, 

As  well  as  the  times  would  allow  : 
And  the  ^ight,  we  expect,  will  be  not  very  new 
When  they  meet  us  again,  with  our  tow-row-doTf . 


THE 


SUTTLER  AND  THE  SOLDIER. 


"  Who  would  refuse  this  cheering  draught  ?" 
The  suttler  said,  and  saying,  laugh 'd 
The  soldier,  then,  the  liquor  quaff'd, 

And  felt  right  bold. 

The  suttter  soon  foresaw  the  rest, 
And  thus  the  son  of  Mars  address' d, 
"  This  brandy  is  the  very  best 

Of  all  I've  sold. 

"  The  journey  you  are  bound  to  go, 
In  former  times,  I  travell'd  too, 
When  Arnold  inarch'd,  with  lord  knows  wha. 
To  seize  Quebec. 

"  And  if  he  faiPd  in  that  assault, 
It  was  not,  sure,  the  brandy's  fault ; 
The  best,  at  times,  may  make  a  halt, 

Ay,  break  his  neck. 


THE  SUTTLER  AND  THE  SOLDIER,   93 

'•  Now  hear  a  dotard  of  your  trade  :— 
OF  old  I  lived  by  flint  and  blade, 
But,  disregarded  and  deeay'd, 

I'm  nothing  now. 

"  This  leaky  shed  is  not  my  own, 
And  here  I  stay,  unheard,  unknown, 
Poor  Darby,  and  without  a  Joan, 

Nor  horse,  nor  coir. 

*'  But  mend  your  draught — I  have  more  to  say  : — 
You  now  are  young,  and  under  pay  ; 
Be  warn'd  by  me,  whose  hairs  are  grey  ; 

The  time  will  come 

*  When  you  may  find  this  trade  of  arms, 
The  march,  that  now  your  bosom  warms, 
Has  little  but  illusive  charms, 

Mere  beat  of  drum  : 

"  But  yet,  in  such  a  cause  as  this 
I  deem  your  ardor  not  ami>s — 
i  know  you  are  no  hireling  swiss  ; 

Your  country  calls  : 

"  And  when  she  calls,  you  must  obey  ; 
^ or  wages  not — fig  for  the  pay — 
Tis  honor  calls  you  out  this  day 

To  face  the  balls. 
VOT,.  IT.  I 


94  FRENEAU'S  £OEMS. 

«*  You  have  to  go  where  George  Provost 
Has  many  a  soldier  made  a  ghost, 
Where  Indians  many  a  prisoner  roast 

Or  seize  their  scalps. 

44  And  what  of  that? — mere  fate  of  war — 
God  grant  you  may  have  better  fare — 
Go,  fight  beneath  a  kinder  star, 

And  scourge  the  whelps. 

'*  They  scarce  are  men — mere  flesh  and  blood- 
Mere  ouran-outangs  of  the  wood, 
F6rever  on  the  scent  of  blood, 

And  deers  at  heart. 

"When  men,  like  you,  approach  them  nigh. 
They  make  a  yell,  retreat,  and  fly  : 
On  equal  ground,  they  never  try 

The  warrior's  art. 

"  Then  dare  their  strength — at  honor's  call 
Explore  the  road  to  Montreal, 
To  dine,  perchance,  in  Drummond's  hall, 
Perhaps  in  jail. 

"  Of  all  uncertain  things  below 
The  chance  of  war  is  doubly  so  ; 
For  this  I  saw,  and  this  I  know  ; — 

Yet,  do  not  faiL 


THE  SUTTLER  AND  THE  SOLDIER.        »* 

"  To  live,  for  months  on  scanty  fare, 
To  sleep,  by  night  in  open  air, 
To  fight,  and  every  danger  share  ; 

All  these  await. 

"  Rut  bear  them  all ! — wherever  led, 
And  live  contented,  though  half  fed  : — 
A  couch  of  straw,  and  canvas  shed 

Shall  be  your  fate  ! 

"  And  mind  the  mark — remember  me — 
When  full  of  fight,  and  full  of  glee, 
Be  of  your  brandy  not  too  free  : — 

Ay,  mind  the  mark  ! 

**  Who  drinks  too  much,  the  day  he  fights, 
Calls  danger  near,  and  death  invites 
To  dim,  or  darken  all  his  lights ; — 

His  noon  is  dark  ! 

41  It  is  a  friend  in  a  stormy  day  ; 
l^ien  brandy  drives  all  care  away, 
But,  over  done,  it  will  betray 

The  wisest  sage. 

'*  Then  strictly  guard  the  full  canteen — 
Its  power  enlivens  every  scene, 
And  helps  to  keep  the  soul  serene 

When  battles  rage 


36  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

"  This  potent  stuff,  if  managed  well, 
(And  strong  it  is,  the  sort  I  sell) 
Can  every  doubt  and  fear  expel, 

When  prudence  guides 

'*  Though  mountains  rise,  or  rocks  intrude, 
This  nectar  smooths  the  roughest  road, 
And  cheers  the  heart,  and  warms  the  blood 
Through  all  its  tides. 

"  Then  drink  you  this,  and  more,"  (he  said. 
And  held  the  pitcher  to  his  heari) 
^  This  drink  of  gods,  when  Ganymede 

Hands  round  the  bowl, 

*'  Will  nerve  the  arm.  and  bid  you  go 
Where  prowls  the  vagrant  Eskimau,* 
Where  torpid  winter  tops  with  snow 

The  darken'd  pole, — " 

"  Enough,  enough  !" — (the  sergeant  said) 
Now,  suttler,  he  must  go  to  bed — 
See  !  topsy-turvy  goes  his  li:  a^  ; 

I  hear  him  snort." 

"Since  I  know  where  to  get  my  pay 
(The  suttler  answered  rather  gay) 
No  matter  what  I  said,  or  say — 

PYC  sold  my  quart.' ' 

*  The  savage  inhabitants  of  Labrador,  or  New-Britain, 


POLITICAL  SERMONS. 


When  parsons  preach  on  politics,  pray  why 
Should  declamation  cease,  if  you  go  by  p 

We  heard  a  lecture,  or  a  scold, 
And,  doubtful  which  it  might  be  calPd, 
But  senseless  as  the  bell  that  toIPd, 
And  pleasing  neither  young  nor  old. 

We  kept  our  seats  amid  the  din, 
Then  quit  thejicld,  with  all  our  sin, 
Just  as  good  as  we  went  in. 

Tell  me  what  the  preacher  said, 
Ye,  who  somewhat  longer  stay'd 
Till  the  last  address  was  made  :• — 

Why, — he  talk'dof  ruhVd  states, 
Demagogues  and  democrates, 
Falling  stars,  and  satan's  baits. 

Bid  he  mention  nothing  more  ? — 
Simply,  what  he  said  before — 
Repetitions,  twenty  score, 
I    2 


FRENE  AIT'S  POEMS.       . 

His  arguments  could  nothing  prove, 
His  text  alarm 'd  the  sacred  grove, 
His  prayer  displeased  the  powers  above. 

He  would  not  pray  for  those  who  rule, 
But  hoped  that  in  Bethesda's  pool 
They  all  might  dip,  to  make  them  cool. 

He  deprecated  blood  and  war, 
Its  many  mischiefs  did  deplore 
Except  when  England  mounts  the  car. 

At  congress  he  had  such  a  fling, 
As  plainly  show'd,  he  wish'd  a  king, 
Might  here  arrive,  on  Vulture's  wing  , 

And  that  himself  an  horn  might  blow 
To  shake  our  modern  Jericho, 
And  bring  its  ramparts  very  low. 

To  english  notes  his  psalm  was  sung, 
With  politics  the  pulpit  rung, 
And  thrice  was  bellow'd  from  his  tongue. 
"  The  president  is  always  wrong  ! 

"  He  brought  these  evils  on  our  land, 
And  he  must  go — the  time's  at  hand — 
With  Bonaparte  to  take  his  stand." — 

Mnst  not  the  wheels  of  fate  go  on  ? 
Must  not  the  lion's  teeth  be  drawn, 
Because  it  suits  not  Prester  John  ! — 


POLITICAL  SERMONS.  99 

A  Bishop's  Lawn  is  such  a  prize, 
Such  virtue  in  a  mitre  lies, 
Democracy  before  it  flies. 

And  these  he  hopes,  if  George  prevails, 
In  time  may  hoist  his  shorten'd  sails 
And  waft  him  on,  with  fortune's  gales, 

To  gain  by  preaching,  nett  and  clear, 
Some  twenty  hundred  pounds  a  year  ; 
Which  democrats  would  never  bear. 

To  England  why  so  much  a  friend, 
Or  why  her  cause  with  heat  defend  ? — 
There  is,  no  doubt,  some  selfish  end. 

Dear  Momus  come,  and  help  ine  laugh — 
This  England  is  the  stay  and  staff 
Of  true  religion — more  than  half ! 

She  is  the  prop  of  all  that's  good, 
A  bulwark,  which  for  ages  stood 
To  guard  the  path  and  mark  the  road ! 

One  proof  of  which  can  soon  be  brought, 
The  temple  rais'd  to  Jaggernaut,  * 
And  India  to  his  temple  brought, 


The  temple  of  Jaggernaut,  an  idolatrous  establishment  in  In- 
,  to  the  support  of  which  the  englisb  government  contributed 
£f -y  The  unwieldy  idol,  to  which  the  temple  is  dedicated, 


500  FRESTEAU'S  POEMS. 

To  see  her  raurder'd,  mangled  sons, 
To  worship  idols,  stocks,  and  stones, 
Orreliques  of  some  scoundrel's  bones. 

And  "  long  may  heaven  on  England  smile — 

(So  says  our  preacher,  all  the  while) 

The  world's  last  hope,  last  anchor'd  isle  !*' — 

Religipn  there  is  made  no  sport, 
State  tailors  there  have  deckt  her  out 
In  a  birth-day  suit — to  go  to  court  ! 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 

Napoleon,  born  for  regal  sway, 

With  fortune  in  a  smiling  mood, 
To  a  foreign  land  explored  his  way, 

Where  Cairo  stands,  or  Memphis  stood. 

is,  on  certain  days,  carried  about  the  streets  on  a  huge  carriage, 
under  the  wheels  of  which  the  superstitious  multitude,  it  is  said, 
suffer  themselves  to  be  trampled  and  crushed  to  pieces,  by  hun 
dred?,  from  a  superstitious  motive.  If  this  be  not  fiction,  may  the 
british  government  exert  its  influence  to  eradicate  so  barbarous 
and  bloody  a  superstition  from  the  minds  of  millions  of  idolatrous 
wretches  ! 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 

And  still  he  fought,  and  still  she  smiled, 
And  urged  him  far,  and  spurr'd  him  on. 

And  on  his  march,  at  length  beguiled, 
One  thinking  man  to  wear  a  crown. 

The  crown  attracted  many  a  care, 

And  war  employed  him,  day  and  night  j 

He  by  a  princess  bad  an  heir 

Born  to  succeed  him,  or — — who  might. 

Through  russian  tribes  he  forced  his  way, 
To  blast  their  hopes  and  hurl  them  down 

Whose  valor  might  dispute  his  sway, 
Or  dispossess  him  of  a  crown. 

At  last  arrived  the  fatal  time, 

When  powerful  tyrants,  jealous  grown, 
Agreed  to  count  it  for  a  crime 

A  commoner  should  fill  a  throne. 

European  states,  with  England  join'd 
To  keep  unmixt  the  royal  race, 

And  let  the  famed  Napoleon  find 
A  dotard  might  supply  his  place. 


THE 


DISMISSION  OF  BONAPARTE 


FROM   THE    FRENCH    THRONE. 


Famed  Bonaparte,  in  regal  pride, 
Put  slighted  Josephine  aside, 
And  wedded  an  imperial  bride, 
Of  fortune  sure. 

But  when  he  droop'd,  aud  when  he  fell, 
(I  took  my  pen  and  mark'd  it  well) 
This  jilt  of  jilts,  this  aiistrian  belle, 

No  longer  styled  him,  Mon  Amour 

Which  means,  I  think,  my  dearest  heart, 
My  love  !— but  lovers  often  part 
When  friendship  does  not  point  the  dart, 
Nor  fix  the  flame. 

And  warning,  hence,  let  others  take, 
Nor  love's  decree  for  interest  break  ; 
In  marriage,  too  much  lies  at  stake 
To  slight  its  claim. 


DISMISSAL  OF  BONAPARTE  103 

Retreating  to  the  tuscan  coast, 
An  empire,  wife,  and  fortune  lost, 
He  found  the  throne  a  dangerous  post, 
And  wars  a  cheat  ; 

Where  all,  who  play  their  game  too  deep, 
Must  hazard  life,  and  discord  reap, 
Or  thrown  from  grandeur's  giddy  steep, 
Lament  their  fate. 

Napoleon,  with  an  empty  chest ! 
An  austrian  princess  must  detest ; 
And  yet,  she  wears  upon  her  breast 
The  painted  toy  ;* 

And  often  weeps,  the  story  goes, 
That  royal  blood  not  wholly  flows 
In  every  rein,  from  head  to  toes, 
Of  her  dear  boy. 

To  Elba's  isle  she  could  not  go — 
The  royal  orders  said  "  No,  no  ! 
On  Elba's  island  we  bestow 

No  royal  throne  :" 

And  thus  Napoleon,  shoved  from  power, 
Has  many  a  lonely  gloomy  hour 
To  walk  on  Elba's  sea- beat  shore, 
Alone !  atone  ! 

*  A  miniature  pkttfre  nf  t'^  late  emperor  Napoleon. 


(•4  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

O  save  us  from  ambition's  sway, 
Ye  powers,  who  tread  the  milky  way; 
It  will  deceive,  it  will  betray 
Nine  out  of  ten. 

Napoleon's  history  let  us  read  : 
In  science  he  was  great  indeed — 
Ambition's  lantern  did  mislead 

This  prince  of  men  : — 

And  yet,  ambition  had  its  use, 
It  clieck'd  the  royal  game  of  goose, 
And  many  a  flagrant  vile  abuse 
Fell  at  his  frown. 

But,  doom'd  to  share  immortal  fame, 
Despotic  powers  will  dread  his  name, 
Though  he,  perhaps,  was  much  the  same, 
Raised  to  a  throne ! 


(     105    ) 


THE 

BATTLE  OF  LAKE  ERIE. 

SEPTEMBER    10,     1813. 

"  To  clear  the  lake  of  Perry's  fleet 
And  make  his  flag  his  winding  sheet 
This  is  my  object — I  repeat — " 

— -Said  Barclay,  flnsh'd  with  native  pride, 
To  some  who  serve  the  british  crown  : — 
Br.l  they*  who  dwell  beyomi  th°  moon, 
Heart  i  this  huiu  menace  with  ,i  ii-own, 

Nor  the  rash  sentence  ratified. 

Ambition  so  be  w  itch 'd  his  mind, 
And  royal  smiles  had  so  combined 
With  skill,  Lo  act  the  part  assign'd 

He  tor  no  contest  cared,  a  straw  ; 
The  ocean  was  too  narrow  tar 
To  b"  the  seat  of  naval  war  ; 
He  waute-!  lakes,  ani*  room  to  spare, 

And  all  to  yield  to  Britain's  law. 

And  thus  he  ma.de  a  sad  mistake ; 

F.'.-'^-or    ':;-m!;st  possess  th<;  lake, 
As  ii3  -    y  in ,uii  tui  Enghuvi's  s.ike 
T»-  (>  aj  her  prank^  and  rule  the  roast  ; 

VOL.    II.  K 


106  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Where  she  might  govern,  uncontrol'd, 
An  unmolested  empire  hold, 
And  keep  a  fleet  to  fish  up  gold, 
To  pay  the  troops  of  George  Provost, 

The  ships  approached,  of  either  side, 
And  Erie,  on  his  bosom  wide 
Beheld  two  hostile  navies  ride, 

Each  for  the  combat  well  prepared  : 
The  lake  was  smooth,  the  sky  was  clear, 
The  martial  drum  had  banish'd  fear, 
And  death  and  danger  hover' d  near, 

Though  both  were  held  in  disregard. 

From  lofty  heights  their  colors  flew, 
And  Britain's  standard  all  in  view, 
With  frantic  valor  fired  the  crew 

That  mann'd  the  guns  of  queen  Charlotte. 
"  And  we  must  Perry's  squadron  take, 
And  England  shall  command  the  lake ; — 
And  you  must  fight  for  Britain's  sake, 

(Said  Barclay)  sailors,  will  you  not?" 

Assent  they  gave  with  heart  and  hand ; 
For  never  yet  a  braver  band 
To  fight  a  ship,  forsook  the  land, 

Than  Barclay  had  on  board  that  day ; — 
The  guns   were  loosed  the  game  to  win, 
Their  muzzles  gaped  a  dismal  grin, 
And  out  they  pnll'd  their  tompion  pin. 

The  bloody  gamf  of  war  to  play. 


BATTLE  OF  LAKE  ERIE,  107 

But  Perry  soon,  with  flowing  sail, 
Advanced,  determined  to  prevail, 
When  from  his  bull-dogs  flew  the  hail 

Directed  full  at  queen  Charlotte. 
His  wadded  guns  were  aim'd  so  true, 
And  such  a  weight  of  ball  they  threw, 
As,  Barclay  said,  he  never  knew 

To  come,  before,  so  scalding  hot  ! 

But  still,  to  animate  his  men 
From  gun  to  gun  the  warrior  ran 
And  blazed  away  and  blazed  again — 

Till  Perry's  ship  was  half  a  wreck  : 
They  tore  away  both  tack  and  sheet, — 
Their  victory  might  have  been  complete^ 
Had  Perry  not,  to  shun  defeat 

In  lucky  moment  left  his  deck. 

Repairing  to  another  post, 

From  another  ship  he  fought  their  host 

And  soon  regained  the  fortune  lost, 

And  down,  his  flag  the  briton  tore  : 
With  loss  of  arm  and  loss  of  blood 
Indignant,  on  his  decks  he  stood 
To  witness  Erie's  crimson  flood 

For  miles  around  him,  stain'd  with  gore  I 

Thus,  for  dominion  of  the  lake 
These  captains  did  each  other  rake, 
And  many  a  widow  did  they  make  ; — 
Whose  is  the  fault,  or  who  to  blame  ?— - 


!•»  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

The  briton  challenged  with  his  sword, 
The  yankee  took  him  at  his  word, 
With  spirit  laid  him  close  on  ooard — 

They're  ours— he  said — and  closed  the  game. 


BATTLE  OF  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


SEPTEMBER  11,  1814. 


Between  the  british  squadron,  of  93  guns  and  1850  men, 
a/ul  the  american  fleet  of  80  guns  and  82U  men.  The 
Confiance,  of  39  and  the  Sarat  >ga,  of  26  guns,  were 
the  Jiag  ships  of  the  two  commanders,  Dannie  and 
Macdonough. 


Parading  near  saint  Peter's  flood 
Full  fourteen  thousand  soldiers  stood ; 
Allied  with  natives  of  the  wood, 
WiiSi  frigates,  sloops,  and  galleys  near  ; 
Which  southward,  now,  began  to  steer  ; 
Their  object  was,  Ticonderogue. 


BATTLE  OF  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN.    10$ 

Assembled  at  Missisqui  bay 
A  least  they  held,  to  hail  the  day, 
When  all  should  bend  to  british  sway 
From  Plattsburgh  to  Ticonderogue. 

And  who  could  tell,  if  reaching  there 
They  might  not  other  laurels  share 
And  England's  flag  in  triumph  bear 
Tothccapitol.at  Albany!!  ! 

Sir  George  advanced,  with  fire  and  sword, 
The  frigates  were  with  vengeance  stored, 
The  strength  of  Mars  was  felt  on  board, — 
When  Downie  gave  the  dreadful  word, 
Huzza  !  for  death  or  victory  !  ' 

Sir  George  beheld  the  prize  at  stake, 
And,  with  his  veterans,  made  the  attack, 
Macomb's  brave  legions  drove  him  back  ; 
And  England's  fleet  approach'd,  to  meet 
A  desperate  combat,  on  the  lake. 

From  isle  La  Motte  to  Saranac* 
With  sulphurous  clouds  the  heavens  were  black ; 
We  saw  advance  the  Confiance, 
Shall  blood  and  carnage  mark  her  track, 
To  gain  dominion  on  the  lake. 


110  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Then  on  our  ships  she  pour'd  her  flame, 
And  many  a  tar  did  kill  or  maim, 
Who  suflfer'd  for  their  country's  fame, 
Her  soil  to  save,  her  rights  to  guard. 

Macdonough,  now,  began  his  play, 
And  soon  his  seaman  heard  him  say, 
No  Saratoga  yields,  this  day, 

To  all  the  force  that  Britain  sends. 

"  Disperse,  my  lads,  and  man  the  waisjt, 
Be  firm,  and  to  your  stations  haste, 
And  England  from  Champlain  is  chased, 
If  you  behave  as  you'll  see  me." 

The  fire  began  with  awful  roar ; 
At  our  first  flash  the  artillery  tore 
From  his  proud  stand,  their  commodore, 
A  presage  of  the  victory. 

The  skies  were  hid  in  fla:-  eand  smoke, 
Such  thunders  from  the  cannon  spoke, 
The  contest  such  an  aspect  took 
As  if  all  nature  went  to  wreck  ! 

Amidst  his  decks,  with  slaughter  strew'd, 
Unmoved,  the  brave  Macdoiiough  stood, 
Or  waded  through  a  scene  of  blood, 

At  every  step  that  round  him  stream'd 


BATTLE  OF  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN.         Ill 

He  stood  amidst  Columbia's  sons, 
He  stood  amidst  dismounted  guns, 
He  fought  amidst  heart-rending  groans, 
The  tatter'd  sail,  the  tottering  mast. 

Then,  round  about,  his  ship  he  wore, 
And  charged  his  guns  with  vengeance  sore, 
And  more  than  ^Etna  shook  the  shore — 
The  foe  confessed  the  contest  vain. 

In  vain  they  fought,  in  vain  they  sail'd, 
That  day  ;  for  Britain's  fortune  fail'd, 
And  their  best  efforts  nought  avaiPd 
To  hold  dominion  on  Champlain. 

So,  down  their  colors  to  the  deck 

The  vanquished  struck — their  ships  a  wreck^- 

What  dismal  tidings  for  Quebec, 

What  news  for  England  and  her  prince  ! 

For,  in  this  fleet,  from  England  won, 
A  favorite  project  is  undone  : 
Her  sorrows  only  are  begun — 
And  she  may  want,  and  very  soon, 
Her  armies  for  her  own  defence. 


DEATH  OF  GENERAL  ROSS  : 


IVho  had  the  principal  command  of  the  english  army  at 
the  attack  upon  Baltimore,  in  which  he  fell,  while  out 
with  a  reconnoitering  party. 

Give  them  the  shadow  of  the  cypress  bough  ! 

The  chief  who  came  our  prowess  to  defy, 
Who  came,  to  bind  fresh  laurels  on  his  brow, 

Who  came,  too  sure  to  conquer  not  to  die  : — • 
Low  lies  the  chief  npon  th*  unconscious  plain, 
The  laurels  wither,  and  no  wreathes  remain. 

To  kindle  up  your  torch,  ambition's  flame 
Heroic  chief,  had  all  its  flames  supplied  ; 

A  monarch's  smiles,  a  never-dying  name, 

The  historian's  subject,  and  the  soldier's  pride  ; 

Your  native  land  with  splendid  trophies  hung  ; 

Joy  sparkling  in  the  eye,  and  praise  from  every 
tongue. 

Deceived  how  raueh  !  a  name  alone  remains, 
Not  yet  complete  in  fame,  nor  ripe  in  years  ; — 

What  is  the  applause  such  thirst  of  glory  gains, 
Which  not  the  grave  regards  or  valor  hears  : 


DEATH  OF  GENERAL  ROSS.  113 

In  war's  wild  tumult,  for  a  name  be  died, 
He  fell,  the  victim  of  a  monarch's  pride. 

A  country's  rights,  or  freedom  to  defend 
May  sooth  the  anguish  of  a  dying  hour, 

A  ravaged  land  to  succor  or  befriend, 
To  brave  the  efforts  of  a  tyrant's  power  : 

These  may  console,  when  mad  ambition's  train 

Fade  from  the  view,  or  sooth  the  soul  in  vain. 


BRIGANTINE  PRIVATEER 
PRINCE  DE  NEUFCHATEL, 

Ordonneaux,  commander,  which  arrived  at  Boston  some 
time  since,  from  a  cruise  of  three  months,  chiefly  in  the 
cnglish  and  irisk  channels,  in  tihich  she  captured  thir 
teen  or  fourteen  valuable  prises,  to  the  amount,  it  was 
saidt  of  more  than  a  million  of  dollars. 

Quid  petis  hicest.— MARTIAL. 

What  is  wealth,  that  men  will  roam, 
Risque  their  all,  and  leave  their  home, 
Face  the  cannon,  brat  the  drum, 
And  their  lives  so  cheaply  sell ! 


114  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Let  them  reason  on  the  fact 
Who  'would  rather  think  than  act—       / 
Their  brains  were  not  with  morals  rack'd 
Who  naann'd  the  prince  of  NeufchateL 

Having  play'd  a  lucky  game, 
Homeward,  with  her  treasure,  came 
This  privateer  of  gallant  fame, 
Call'd  the  prince  of  Neufchatel. 

Are  the  english  cruisers  near  ? 
De  they  on  the  coast  appear 
To  molest  this  privateer  ? — 
— She  shall  be  defended  well. 

Soon  a  frigate  hove  in  sight  : — 
As  the  wind  was  rather  light, 
She,  five  barges,  out  of  spite, 

Sent,  to  attack,  with  gun  and  blade 

On  our  decks  stood  rugged  men, 
Little  more  than  three  times  ten  ; 
And  I  tremble,  while  my  pen 
Tells  the  havoc  that  was  made 

Up  they  came,  with  colors  red, 
One  a  stern,  and  one  a  head — 
Shall  I  tell  you  what  they  said  ?— - 
Yankees  !  strike  the  buntin  rag  ! 


PRIVATEER.  115 

Three  were  ranged  on  either  side — 
Then  the  ports  were  open'd  wide, 
And  the  sea  with  blood  was  dyed  ; 
Ruin  to  the  english  flag ! 

Now  the  angry  cannons  roar, 
Now  they  hurl  the  storm  of  war, 
Now  in  floods  of  human  gore 
Swam  the  prince  of  Neufehatel  ! 

Then  the  captain,  Ordonneaux, 
Seconded  the  seaman's  blow, 
And  the  remnant  of  the  foe 
Own'd  the  brig  defended  well. 

For  the  million  she  contain'd 
He  contended,  sword  in  hand, 
FollowM  by  as  brave  a  band 
Of  tars,  as  ever,  trod  a  deck. 

In  these  bloody  barges,  five, 
Scarce  a  man  was  left  alive, 
And  about  the  seas  they  drive  ; 

Some  were  sunk,  and  some  a  wreck. 

Every  effort  that  they  made 
With  boarding  pike,  or  carronade, 
Every  effort  was  repaid, 
Scarcely  with  a  parallel ! 

Fortune,  thus,  upon  the  wave, 
Crown'd  the  valor  of  the  brave  :— 
Little  lost,  and  much  to  save, 
Had  the  prince  of  Neufchatel, 


THE  TERRIFIC  TORPEDOES  :* 


SIR  THOMAS  HARDY'S  SOLILOQUY. 


"  Then  traitor  come  !  as  black  revenge  excitei, 
Extinguish  all  our  claims  with  all  my  lights! 
But  keen  remorse,  which  vengeful  furies  lead, 
Will  act  her  part  for  this  inhuman  deed. 
EU;U  will  her  vultures  on  your  vitals  prey  ! 
How  will  her  stings  our  every  death  repay  ! — 
O  nature  !  is  all  sympathy  a  jest  ; 
Art  thou  a  stranger  to  the  human  breast  ? 
Has  manly  prowess  quit  the  abanrlon'd  stage, 
Are  midnight  plots  the  order  of  th<  .;ge  ? 

"  Where  proud  Nerv-Londcn  holds  her  flaming 

guide 
To  steer  Decatur  through  the  darksome  tide, 


*  It  is  a  fact  well  ascertained  that  during  a  great  part  of  the 
summer  of  1814.  the  knight  was  under  such  serious  apprehe  .is 
of  fving  blown  up  by  the  Torpedo  men,  that  he  enjoyed  no  sleep 
or.'  -t  r-'-raan'1  nights  toge^ier.  With  such  feelings,  and  under 
such  Unprcssiops,  V  is  supposed  to  b^qin  his  soliloqur  abruptly, 
under  all  the  emotions  ©f  horror,  incident  to  such  an  occasion. 


HARDY'S  SOLILOQUY.  117 

I  stay  too  long  !  what  station  can  I  find 
To  shake  distraction  from  a  tortured  mind  ! 

"  Then,  traitor,  come  !  your  dark  attack  begin* 
Renown'd  inventor  of  the  black  machine  : 
But  mark  ! — for  when  some  future  poet  tells, 
Or  some  historian  on  the  subject  dwells, 
No  word  of  praise  shall  meet  the  listening  ear, 
Disgustful  story,  to  repeat  or  hear — 
Was  you,  an  infant,  to  a  mother  press'd, 
Or  did  ferocious  tigers  give  the  breasts- 
Did  nature  in  some  angry  moment  plan 
Some  fierce  hyena  to  degrade  the  man  ? 
Resolve  me  quick,  for  doubtful  while  I  stav 
These  dark  torpedoes  may  be  on  their  way. 
Does  nature  thus  her  heaviest  curse  impart 
And  will  she  give  such  countenance  to  art  ? — 
She  gave  you  all  that  rancor  could  bestow, 
She  lent  her  magic  from  the  world*below ; 
She  gave  you  all  that  madness  could  propose, 
And  all  her  malice  in  your  bosom  glows ; 
She  gave  you  sulphur,  charcoal,  nitre  join'd  ; 
She  gave  you  not — a  great  and  generous  mind."' 

So  spoke  the  knight,  and  slamm'd  the  door, 
And  thus  went  on,  with  feelings  sore  :. 
"  I  relish  not  torpedo  war  : — 
Die  when  I  will,  or  where  I  may, 
I  would  not  choose  so  short  a  way : 
These  twenty  nights  I  did  my  best 
To  shut  my  eyes,  and  take  my  rrs1\ 
YOT,,  IT.  T.» 


lift  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

But  drowsy  Morpheus  might  as  well 
Upon  tue  main  mast  try  his  spell. 
No  potion  from  the  poppy's  leaf 
Can  close  my  lids ; — and,  to  be  brief, 
This  Fulton,  with  his  dashing  plans, 
Distracts  my  head,  my  heart  unmans  : 
And  every  night,  I  have  my  fears 
Of  such  infernal  engineers  ; 
Who,  when  I  sup,  or  could  I  sleep 
IWight  row  their  wherry  through  the  deep, 
And  screw  their  engine  to  the  keel, 
And  blow  us — where  there's  no  appeal ; 
No  question  how,  or  where  wt  d  ed, 
Bnt  how  we  lived,  and  how  applied 
The  little  sense  our  heads  contain 
To  save  our  souls,  and  live  again. 

"  They,  who  support  torpedo  plans 
Should  have  no  plaudit  for  their  pains  ; 
Should  be  employ'd  on  dark  designs, 
Explorers  of  peruvian  mines  ; 
Such  have  not  felt  the  patriot  glow, 
A  feeling  thqy  could  never  know  : 
For  treasons  they  were  surely  made, 
Have  princes  slain  and  kings  betray'd. — 
Ye  powers  above  !  and  must  I  Wait 
Till  these  prevail  in  every  state, 
Till  pale  disease,  or  shivering  age  - 
Drives  such  false  patriots  from  the  stage  I 

"  The  chaplain  said  he  heard  me  snore, 
Bnt  many  a  fib  he  told  before  ; 


HARDY'S  SOLILOQUY. 

And  if  I  snored,  I'm  satisfied 

Tvvas  when  my  eyes  were  open  wide. 

"  Torpedoes  !  who  contrived  the  word  ? 
Torpedoes  !  worse  than  gun  or  sword  I 
They  are  a  mode  of  naval  war 
We-  cannot  have  a  relish  for  : — 
In  all  the  chronicles  I  read 
Of  former  times,  they  nothing  said 
O  -  ;ch  a  horrible  machine 
That  would  disgrace  an  algerine, 
Ami  only  yankees  would  employ, 
Not  to  distress,  but  to  destroy. 

"  What  human  eye,  without  dismay 
Can  see  torpedo-lightning's  play  ? 
What  mortal  heart,  but  dreads  a  foe 
That  fights  unseen  from  fields  below  ! 

What  passion  must  that  heart  inspire 
That  dives  the  sea,  to  deal  in  fire  , 
What  can  he  (ear.  I  trembling  ask 
WTho  undertakes  the  daring  task  ? 

"With  engines  of  perdition  spread, 
Amazed,  I  seethe  ocean's be<i  ! 
And  find  with  rage,  regret,  despair, 
I  have  no  power  to  meet  them  there  ! 

'*  Alack  !  my  nerves  are  on  the  rack — 
They're  hammering  at  the  garboard  streak  ! 
Souir1  yankte  dog  is  near  the  keel ! 
Ho,  sailors  give  tne  ship  a  heel  : 


12»  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Go,  chaplain,  to  the  starboard  chains 
And  ask  the  rascal  what  he  means  ? 
Who  knows  but  Fulton's  self  is  there 
With  all  his  dark  infernal  gear  : 
Who  knows  but  he  has  fix'd  his  screws, 
And  left  a  match,  to  fire  the  fuze — 
Who  knows,  but  in  this  very  hour, 
The  Ramillies  will  be  no  more  ! 
Will  only  live  in  empty  fame, 
And  I,  myself,  be  but  a  name  ! 

"  Should  the  torpedo  take  effect, 
Her  carcass  will  be  worse  than  wreck'd  ; 
In  scatter' d  fragments  to  the  sky 
This  ship  of  ships  will  clattering  fly  : 
And  then — ah,  chaplain  ! — ah,  what  then  ! 
Where  will  I  be,  and  all  my  men  ? 
And  where  will  you  a  lodging  find, 
A  traveller  on  a  gale  of  wind  ! 
And  where  will  be  the  pretty  maid 
That  sweeps  my  floor  and  makes  my  bed  ? 
# 

Oh  Fanny,  Fanny  !  must  we  part  ? — 
Torpedoes  ! — I  am  sick  at  heart ! — 
How  will  the  flames  those  iips  deface  ! 
How  will  they  spoil  that  blooming  face  ! 
How  will  they  scorch  your  auburn  hair — ? 
— You'll  have  your  plagues,  and  I  my  share. 

And  must  I  all  my  fears  impart ; 

And  Jo  these  guns  ray  ship  ensure  ? 
And  must  I  ask  my  fluttering  heart 

If  on  these  decks  I  stand  secure  ? 


HARDY'S  SOLILOQUY. 

"  Do,  Fanny,  go  and  boil  some  tea  : 
Come  hither,  love,  and  comfort  rae  : 
A  glass  of  wine  !  ray  spirits  sink  ! 
The  last  perhaps  that  I  shall  drink  !— 
Or  go — unlock  the  brandy  case 
And  let  us  have  a  dram  a  piece  ; — 
Wo  matter  if  your  nose  is  red, 
We  shall  be  sober  when  we're  deado 

**  In  fancy's  view  the  mine  is  sprung, 
The  rudder  from  the  stern  unhung, 
My  valiant  sailors  torn  asunder, 
The  ship  herself  a  clap  ofi>  .uder, 
From  fathoms  down,  a  deadly  blast 
Unbolts  the  keel,  unsteps  the  mast, 
While  Fulton,  with  a  placid  grin 
Exulting,  views  the  infernal  scene  ! 

The  sails  are  vanish'd,  tack  and  clue, 
The  rigging  burnt,  by  lord  knows  who, 
The  star  that  glitter 'd  on  my  breast 
Is  gone  to  Davy  Jones's  chest ; 
The  glorions  ensign  of  st  George, 
Of  Spain  the  dread,  of  France  the  scourge, 
Is  from  the  staff,  unpitied,  torn 
And  for  a  cloak  by  satan  worn  : 
The  Lion,  mounted  on  the  prow, 
To  awe  the  subject  sea  below 
With  flames  that  Lion  is  oppressed — 

They  will  not  spare  the  royal  beast. 

O  vengeance  !  why  does  vengeance  sleep  ? — 
The  yards  are  scatter' d  o'er  the  deep, 
L  2 


122  tfRENEAU'S  POEMS 

Our  guns  are  buried  in  the  seas, 
And  thus  concludes  the  Ramillies  ! 

"  The  world,  I  think,  can  witness  beat 
My  name  was  never  stain'd  by  tear  : 
At  least  the  british  fleet  can  say 
I  never  shunn'd  the  face  of- clay  : 
But  Fulton's  black,  infernal  art — 
Has  stamp'd  me — coward — to  the  hoasl : 

"  When  Nelson  met  the  Spanish  fleet. 
And  every  pulse  for  conquest  beat, 
At  Nelson's  side  I  had  my  stand  ; 
When  Nelson  fell  I  took  command  : 
Not  Etnas  self,  with  all  her  flames — 
Vesuvius — such  description  claims  ; 
Not  Hecla,  in  her  wildest  rage, 
Does  with  such  fires  the  heavens  engage, 
As  on  that  day,  in  mourning  clad, 
Was  tlmuder'd  from  the  Trinidad.* 

"  And  yet,  amidst  that  awful  scene, 
J  stood  unhurt,  composed,  serene  ; 
Though  balls,  by  thousands,  whistled  lound* 
Not  one  had  leave  to  kill  or  wound — 
But  here  !  in  this  torpedo  war 
I  perish,  with  my  glittering  star, 
The  laurels  that  adorn  my  brow— 
My  laurels  are  surrendered  now. 

*  The  Santa  Trinidada,  the  Spanish  admiral's  ship,  of  112  guns 
from  the  mizen  top  of  which  admiral  Nelson  was  mortal! y  wound- 
tled  by  a  musket  shot.  Another  accouut  says,  he  received  bis 

death  around  from  the  Redoubtable,  freach  74. 

. 


HARDY'S  SOLILOQUY. 

O  Fanny  !  these  envenom'd  states 
Have  doom'd  our  deaths  among  the  rats, 
In  one  explosion,  to  the  sky 
Our  chaplain,  rats,  and  sailors  fly. 

"  To  deal  in  such  inhuman  war 
Is  more  than  english  blood  can  bear  ; 
It  brings  again  the  gothic  age, 
Renews  that  period  on  the  stage, 
When  men  against  the  gods  rebell'd. 
And  Ossa  was  on  Pelwn  piled  : 
The  trqjan  war,  when  Diomede 
Tn  battle,  made  fair  Venus  bleed  ; 
Or,  when  the  giants  of  renown 
Attempted  Jove's  imperial  crown  :-— 
From  such  a  foe,  before  we  meet. 
The  safest  way,  is  to  retreat, 
To  leave  this  curst  unlucky  shore 
And  come  to  trouble  them  no  more. 

"  Bat;  should  it  be  my  fate  to-night 
Not  to  behold  to-morrow's  light 
But  mingle  with  the  vulgar  dead, 
With  ail  my  terrors  on  my  head- 
Should  such  a  fate  be  mine,  I  say, 
Dear  Fanny  you  must  lead  the  way  ;•— 
You  are  the  saint  that  will  atone 
For  what  amiss  I  might  have  done  : 
If  such  as  you  will  intercede 
The  chaplain  may  a,fnrlorv  plead, 
While  you  and  I  in  raptures  ?o 
Where  stormy  winds  no  longer  blow. 


124  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Where  guns  are  not,  to  shed  our  blood, 
Or  if  there  be,  are  made  of  wood  ; 
Where  all  is  love,  and  no  one  hates ; 
No  falling  kings  or  rising  states  ,* 
No  colors  that  we  must  defend, 
If  sick,  or  dead,  or  near  our  end ; 
Where  yankees  are  admitted  not 
To  hatch  their  damn'd  torpedo  plot : 
Where  you  will  have  no  b^ds  to  make. 
Nor  I  be  doom'd  to  lie  awake." 


ox  THE 
ENGLISH  DEVASTATIONS 


4 

CITY  OF  WASHINGTON, 

Their  power  abused  !  that  power  may  soon  descend ; 
Years,  not  remote,  may  see  their  glory  end  : — 
The  british  power,  the  avaricious  crown, 
Pull'd  every  flag,  hurl'd  every  standard  down  ; 
Columbian  ships  they  seized  on  every  sea, 
Condemn'd  those  ships,  nor  left  our  sailors  free. — 
So  long  a  tyrant  on  the  watery  stage. 
They  thought  to  tyrannize  through  every  age ; 
They  hoped  all  commerce  to  monopolize ; 
Utarope,  at  sea,  they  affected  to  despise; 


BEYASTATIONS  AT  WASHINGTON.       125 

They  laugh'd  at  France  contending  for  a  share 
Of  commerce,  one  would  think,  as  free  as  air. 
They  captured  most,  without  remorse  or  plea, 
And  grew  as  proud  as  arrogance  could  be. 

Stung  by  a  thousand  wrongs,  at  length  arose 
The  Western  States,  these  tyrants  to  oppose. 
With  just  resentment,  met  them  on  the  main, 
And  burnt,  or  sunk  their  ships,  with  hosts  ot  slain. 

The  blood  ran  black  from  every  english  heart 
To  see  their  empire  from  the  seas  depart, 
To  see  their  flag  to  thirteen  stripes  surrender, 
And  many  an  english  ship  made  IB  re  and  tinder ; 
They  swore,  they  raged ;  they  saw,  with  patience  spent, 
Each  last  engagement  had  the  same  event — 
What  could  they  do  ?  revenge  inspired  their  breasts 
And  hell's  sensations  seized  their  swelling  chests. — 
All  to  revenge,  to  Maryland  they  came, 
And  costly  works  of  art  assail'd  with  flame  ; 
In  Washington  they  left  a  dismal  void, — 
Poor  compensation  for  their  ships  destroyed  ' — 
We  burn,  nhere  guns  their  frigates  poorly  guard ; 
They  burn,  nhere  scarce  a  gun  is  seen  or  heard ! 


(     12$    ) 


TRANSLATED 

i?  ROM  THE  THIRD  BOOK  OF  LUCRETIUS*  de  natura  remm , 

OR,  ONT    THE    NATURE    OF    THINGS. 

Nil  igitur  mors  est ;   ad  DOS  neque  pertinet  liilura, 
<iuando  quidem  natura  animi  mortalis  habetur,  ^-c. 

If  dies  the  mind,  as  bodies  die, 
Tell  me,  mortal,  tell  me  why 
For  the  ages  you  foresee 
Such  an  anxious  care  should  be  1 

Long  before  our  natal  day 
In  secure  repose  we  lay, 
In  the  elements  immersed, 
In  the  moistening  clouds  dispersed  ; 
Scattcr'd  through  the  mighty  void, 
With  the  winds  we  were  employed ; 
In  the  seeds  of  plants  we  stay'd, 
In  the  ocean's  depths  we  stray 'd  ; 
With  the  elements  combined, 
To  the  elements  confined, 
Scattered  through  our  mother  earth 
Till  their  union  gave  us  birth. 

*  This  nervous  roman  author,  writ  his  work  many  years  be 
fore  the  light  of  Christianity  had  giren  a  better  insight  into  what 
Concerns  the  future  state  ©f  man. 


NATURE  OF  THINGS.  127 

Then  we  knew  nor  suffered  pain — 
Wili  it  be  the  case  again  ? — 
Does  the  soul,  indeed,  revive 
In  some  future  state  to  live  ? — 

When  the  carthaginian  arras 
To  our  fathers  gave  alarms, 
When  the  world  was  in  a  tremour, 
Doubtful  who  would  own  or  claim  her ; 
We,  who  live,  perceived  it  not, 
Where  they  conquer'd,  where  they  fought, 

Unattain'd  the  human  rank, 
All  was  then,  tons,  a  blank  ; 
All  was  nothing  ! — how  they  raged, 
Where  they  perish'd,  where  engaged — 

We  who  live,  perceived  no  raorp 
Ot  that  Carthaginian  war, 
Of  their  murders,  rage,  or  scorn 
Thun  the  nations  yet  unborn. 

When  our  bodies  are  disjoin'*!, 
Once  uncoupled  from  the  mind, 
Grief,  or  pain,  we  shall  not  know, 
All  must  to  oblivion  go  ! 
With  the  elements  again 
Is  our  prospect  to  remain  I 
In  oblivion's  passive  state, — 
So  decreed  the  words  of  fate  ; 

There  be  scattered,  there  be  toss'd, 
disunited— never  lost — 


128  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

We  shall  not  feel,  we  shall  not  see, 
Merely,  since  we  shall  not  be. 

Souls  and  bodies,  when  they  join 
Make  what  we  ourselves  define  ; 
Nothing  else  on  nature's  plan, 
Makes  the  individual,  man  : 
Souls,  in  a  divided  state, 
Nothing  can  to  us  relate  ; — 
Souls  and  bodies,  when  conjoined, 
Constitute  the  human  kind. 

When  the  dream  of  life  is  done, 
Animation  lost  and  gone, 
Should  these  atoms,  now  we  claim, 
Leap  once  more  into  one  frame, 
Ranged  precisely  as  before 
They  would  not  the  self  restore, 
The  same  being,  would  not  bring  ; 

ALL   WOULD   BE   ANOTHER   THING. 


(     129    ) 


THE  TWO  GENII : 

' 

Addressed  to  a  young  lady,  of  a  consumptive  habit,  de 
parting  from  New-York^  by  sea,  for  South-Carolina,  in 

—1805— 

t 

* 

Among  the  dreams  of  Plato's  brain, 
Which  some  have  read,  but  few  explain, 
One  dreain  was  on  the  mind  impressed 
As  more  attractive  than  the  rest ; 
As  such,  at  least,  it  struck  my  view, 
And  may  be  false,  or  may  be  true. 

He  says,  that  on  our  natal  day 
Two  different  spirits  take  their  way, 
One  from  above,  and  one  below, 
And  on  our  lives  their  cares  bestow  ; 
In  all  our  steps  our  ways  attend, 
And  one  a  foe  and  one  a  friend. 

The  power  benign,  from  seats  of  bliss, 
Inclines  us  not  to  do  amiss  ; 
And  often  warns,  with  words  unheard, 
In  virtue's  path  our  steps  to  guard, 
Not  to  displease  the  heavenly  guest, 
Or  wound  the  God  within  the  breast : 
VOL.  u.  M 


FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

She  stays  the  arm,  restrains  the  stroke, 
Prevents  the  word  that  might  be  spoke- 
In  anger's  haste,  to  fire  the  veins, 
To  shed  the  blood  that  life  sustains, 
And  bring  them  to  a  shameful  end 
Who  keep  on  passion  no  command. 

What  lies  beyond  our  power  to  shun, 
Herself  she  kindly  takes  upon  ; 
In  midnight  dangers,  all  unseen, 
Ourselves  and  death  she  stands  between, 
In  war  she  moves,  with  tender  care 
To  shield  the  breasts  that  honor  her, 
The  head  protects,  the  heart  inspires 
To  disregard  the  fiercest  fires  ; 
She  walks  supreme  where  thousands  fall, 
Commands  the  sword,  directs  the  ball, 
With  every  kind  protection  paid 
To  those  deserving  of  her  aid. 

Upon  the  deep  she  keeps  afloat, 
Where  yet  she  never  dipt  her  foot ; 
She  there  commands  the  swelling  sail ; 
She  there  controls  the  fiercest  gale, 
And  brings  in  safety  to  the  shore 
All  those  she  has  a  value  for  ; — 
For  them  she  acts,  for  them  she  moves, 
Thus  guards  the  steps  of  all  she  loves. 

To  those  engaged  on  base  designs, 
Where  madness  drives,  or  vice  inclines, 


THE  TWO  GENII.  131 

She  no  attention  to  them  pays, 

But  leaves  them  to  their  crooked  ways  : 

If  they  resort  to  folly's  gate, 

She  sighs  !  and  leaves  them  to  their  fate. 

She  comes  in  dreams,  such  is  her  power, 
To  entertain  the  midnight  hour  ; 
In  these  she  paints  the  heavenly  scenes*, 
Of  solar  groves  and  solar  plains, 
And  all  that  fancy  can  design 
To  r<  present  a  state  divine, 
Where,  in  the  sun,  or  morning  star, 
Or  in  some  planet,  brighter  far, 
llemoved  from  care,  removed  from  paia^ 
She  comes  to  join  you  once  again  I 

The  genius  of  the  different  kind 
Inspires  all  malice  in  the  mind  : 
His  ways  are  death  !  he  gives  the  word, 
And  discord  lifts  the  murdering  sword  : 
The  dreams  he  sends,  with  horrid  art, 
Dismay  the  soul,  distract  the  heart  : 
The  paths  of  night  he,  dreary,  treads, 
And  ali  he  says  to  ruin  leads — 
He  never  dared  your  mind  to  sway, 
Approached  you  not  by  night  or  day — 
Let  him  his  wicked  course  pursue  ; — 
I  turn  from  him  to  talk  with  you. 

May  the  kind  genius  on  you  wait, 
And  guard  you  to  your  native  STATE, 


132  VRENEAIPS  POEMS. 

You  are  no  stranger  to  her  power, 
Her  influence  meets  you  every  hour ; 
She  knew  you  well  in  seasons  past, 
And  may  she  know  you  to  the  last, 
Then  meet  you  on  celestial  ground 
Where  care,  nor  grief,  nor  pain  is  found. 

So  hopes  the  bard,  who  saw  you  sail 
From  Hudson* 's  stream  witii  April's  gale  : 
JVlay  he,  who  bids  the  canvas  spread, 
The  pilot  of  the  decks  you  tread, 
With  every  care  conduct  you  safe, 
Avoid  the  rock,  avoid  the  reef  j — 
The  genius  of  your  natal  day 
Will  aid  him  on  the  watery  way  : 

May  favoring  winds  his  canvas  kiss 
And  waft  you  to  the  lap  ot  bliss — 
Still  may  he  shun  the  Hatteras  shoal, 
The  breakers  that  on  Look-out  roll — 
Avoid  Cape  Fear,  his  dangerous  Pan ; 
Avoid  the  dangers  of  Roman, 
1        Till  safe  arrived  at  Charleston  Bar 
You  meet  a  kind  reception  there — 


133 


HYPOCHONDRIAC 


Underneath  a  cypress  shade 
In  a  shabby  coat  array 'd, 
Stood  a  man,  of  thirty  year?, 
Often  shedding  many  tears  : 
His  arms  were  folded  on  his  breast. 
JLnd  alJ  about  him  look'd  distrest ; 
His  face  was  of  a  woful  cast, 
He  only  spoke  of  what  was  past  I 
Musing  with  himself,  alone, 
Intermingled,  many  a  groan  ; 
Then  observed,  with  many  a  sighy 
To  an  axe-man,  passing  by  : 

"  The  world  abounds  with  pain  and  eare, 
And  I  have  more  than  I  can  bear  ; 
The  dreams  of  death  attend  my  sleep, 
Blue  devils  hourly  near  me  creep  ; 
The  fiends  of  night  around  me  fly ; 
At  times  I  almost  wish  to  die, 
And  quit  this  sublunary  state 
Which,  from  my  veiy  soul,  I  hate  . 
Rnin'd  twice,  and  twice  perplrxt, 
I  knew  not  where  to  turn  me  next ; 


134  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Twice  they  had  me  fast  in  jail ; 

Not  a  man  would  be  my  bail ; 

The  sheriff  sold  my  little  farm  ! 

I  have  no  fire,  to  keep  me  warm ; 

I  long  to  see  such  trouble  cease, 

And  sleep  with  them  who  sleep  in  peace.1 

The  axe-man,  with  indignant  frown, 
And  vext  enough  to  knock  him  down, 
To  the  man  about  to  die 
Sneering,  made  this  brief  reply  : 

"  Why,  you  lubber,  such  a  clamor  ? 
Here's  the  axe,  and  there's  the  hammer, 
Here's  the  hoe,  and  there's  the  spade— 
If  you  are  of  these  afraid, 
Turn  your  eye  towards  the  shore, 
There's  the  boat,  and  there's  the  oar-*' 
Here's  the  log,  and  there's  the  wedge. 
Here's  the  beetle,  there's  the  sledge 
Look  about  you,  where  you  will, 
On  the  plain,  or  on  the  hill, 
In  the  wood,  or  on  the  moor 
Grows  the  physic  for  your  care. 
See  the  thresher  with  his  flail — 
Do  likr  him,  and  nothing  ail — 
If  a  while  you  take  his  place, 
The  world  will  wear  a  better  face  ; 
The  sheriff  will  upon  you  smile, 
The  jail  be  distant,  many  a  mile ; 
Every  day  will  have  its  charms, 
Nothing's  got  by  folded  arms." 


SIR  PETER  PETRIFIED  ; 


S  THE  MODERN  SIR  PETER  PARKER'S  EXPBBtf 
7ION  TO  KENT  ISLAND,  IN  CHESAPEAKE  BAV 
-1 814— 


Sir  Peter  came,  with  bold  intent, 
To  persecute  the  men  of  Kent 

His  flag  aloft  displayed  : 
Became  to  see  their  pleasant  farms, 
But  ventured  not  without  his  arms 

To  talk  with  man  or  rnaid. 

jlnd  then  the  gallant  colonel  Reed 
Said,  "  we  must  see  the  man  indeed; 

He  comes  perhaps  in  want — 
Who  knows  but  that  his  slorts  are  out 
Tis  hard  to  dine  on  mere  sour  krovt, 

His  water  may  be  scant." 

He  spoke — but  soon  the  men  of  Kent 
Discover'd  what  the  errand  meant, 

And  some,  discouraged,  saidr 
;*  Sir  Peter  comes  to  petrify, 
Be  points  his  guns,  his  colors  fly* 

His  men  for  war  array 'd  !" 


136  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Secure,  as  if  they  own'd  the  Iiind, 
Advanced  this  daring  naval  ba:id, 

As  ii'  in  days  of  peace  ; 
Along  the  shore  they,  prowling,  went, 
And  often  ask'd  swnfi  friends  in  i^ent 

Where  dwelt  the  fattest  geese  ? 

The  farmers'  geese  were  doom'd  to  bleed  , 
But  some  there  were,  with  colonel  Reed, 

Who  would  not  yield  assent ; 
And  said,  before  the  geese  they  take. 
Sir  Peter  must  a  bargain  make 

With  us,  the  boys  ot  Kent. 

The  britons  march'd  along  the  shore. 
Two  hundred  men,  or  somewhat  more  ; 

Next,  through  the  woods  they  stray 'd  : 
The  geese,  still  watchful,  as  they  went, 
To  save  the  capitol  of  Kent 

Their  every  step  betray'd. 

The  british  march'd  with  loaded  gun 
To  seize  the  geese  that  gabbling  run 

About  the  isle  of  Kent : 
But,  what  could  hardly  be  believed, 
Sir  Peter  was  of  life  bereaved 

Before  he  pitch'd  his  tent. 

Some  kentish  lad,  to  save  the  geese, 
And  make  their  noisy  gabbling  cease 
Had  took  a  deadly  aim : 


SIR  PETER  PETRIFIED.  137 

By  kentish  hands  sir  Peter  fell, 
His  men  retreated,  with  a  yell 
And  lost  both  geese  and  game ! 

Now  what  I  say,  I  say  with  grief, 
That  such  a  knight,  or  such  a  chief 

On  s\.c:  an --rrand  died  !  !  ! 
When  men  oi  worth  their  lives  expose 
For  little  things,  wiiwre  little  grows 
They  make  the  very  geese  their  ibes  5 

The  geese  his  fall  deride : 

And,  sure,  they  laugh,  if  laugh  they  cam, 
To  see  a  star  and  gaiter' d  man 
For  life  of  goose  expose  his  own, 
And  bite  the  dust,  with  many  a  groan — 

Alas  !  a  gander  cry'd — 
"  Behold,  (said  he,)  a  man  of  iarae 
Who  all  the  way  from  England  came 
No  more  than  just  to  get  the  name 

Of  PETER  PETRIFIEB  !" 


(     138    ) 


ON  FINDING 


A  TERRAPIN  IN  THE  WOODS, 


WHICH    HAD  A.    D.    1756   MARKED  ON   THE  BACK  OP   HI* 
SHELL. 


Solus  in  sicca  secum  spatiatur  Arena. vine. 


The  date  informs  me  you  have  stray'd 
Full  fifty  years  through  sun  and  shade, 
Through  wet  and  dry,  and  heat  and  cold — 
But  how  much  more  we  are  not  told : 
The  secret  you  to  none  relate, 
How  old  you  were  before  the  date — 
For  aught  that  of  decay  appears 
You  may  have  seen  an  hundred  years ; 
And  yet,  Us  somewhat  strange  to  say, 
You  have  not  yet  a  speck  of  grey, 
While  many  a  wight  ot  human  germ 
Before  existing  half  the  term, 
As  grey  as  badgers  to  the  eye 
Proclaim  their  winter  time  is  nigh. 


TERRAPIN.  139 

How  have  you  held  it  out  so  well, 
So  long  the  tenant  of  a  SHELL  ? — 
How  have  you  chanced  to  live  so  long 
Your  shell  is  neither  thick  nor  strong. 
That  once  a  prisoner  you  have  been 
Is  from  the  mark  distinctly  seen 
And  'cross  your  back  there  pass'd  a  knife 
That  might  have  robb'd  you  of  your  life. 
The  mark  has  made  a  full  confession 
That  some  one  had  you  in  possession, 
Supposed  you  hardly  worth  the  eating, 
And  so  he  writ  a  license,  greeting — 
He  gave  you,  with  a  liberal  heart, 
His  free  permission  to  depart, 
On  one  condition  set  you  free, 
To  show  your  mark  to  all  you  see — 

How  like  a  pedlar  with  his  pack ! — 
Your  carry  all  upon  your  back  ; 
And  yet,  how  sad  it  is  to  tell 
You  have  not  two  pence  worth  to  sell  1 
Your  hide  is  of  the  flinty  kind, 
By  nature  for  your  house  design'd  ; 
In  this  enclosed,  you  sleep  secure 
Though  frosts  congeal  or  torrents  pour. 
It  covers  you  from  snow  and  rain, 
And  serpents  menace  it  in  vain. 

Thrice  happy  terrapin  !  when  taken 
You  hide  your  head,  to  save  your  bacon  : 
Your  shell  is  like  the  trojan  wall 
That  guarded  Priam,  sens,  and  all : 


14ft  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

In  which  had  gallant  Hector  stay'd 
He  might  have  shunn'd  the  grecian  blade. 
Have  shunn'd  the  last  deciding  blow, 
And  bid  Achilles  kiss — his  toe. 

You  are  a  prisoner  once  again ; 
But  tear  me  not — I  keep  no  chain. 
Since  nothing  you  request  of  me 
I  leave  you  safe,  and  leave  you  free 
To  crawl  the  valley  or  the  plain 
And  be  as  happy  as  you  can. 
Your  habitation  is  this  wood, 
And  here  you  find  supplies  of  food  : 
Your  beverage  is  the  forest  stream, 
You  sleep  with  no  uneasy  dream. 
Kind  nature  will  not  let  you  want ; 
Enough  at  hand,  and  nothing  scant, 
She  spreads  your  table,  all  complete. 
Enough  to  drink,  enough  to  eat. 

Poor  solitary  terrapin, 
I  leave  you  sound  in  shell  and  skin, 
I  stoptyour  walk,  but  set  you  down 
Just  as  I  found  you — live  unknown ; 
The  forest  is  a  sure  resource — 
.  •     May  BO  one  ever  treat  you  worse  ! 


Ifr  MBMORY  Of 

JAMES  LAWRENCE,  ESQUIRE, 


Mte  commander  nftke  United  States  frigate  Chesapeake, 
who  fell  in  the  action,  with, the  british  ship  of  war 
Shannon,  June  1st.  1813. 


-Semper  honoratum  habebo — — — -TIRG  . 


To  lift  his  name  to  high  renown 

His  native  merits  led  the  tvay  ; 
His  morning  sun  resplendent  shone 

Till  clouds  obscured  the  fading  ray  : 
His  country's  voice  his  worth  confessed, 

His  country's  tears  disclose  the  rest, 
In  battle  brave,  his  lofty  mind 

Aspired  to  all  that  fame  relates 
Of  those,  who  on  her  page  we  find 

Defenders  of  insulted  states  : 
Of  all  who  fought,  or  all  who  fell, 
The  noblest  part  he  copied  well. 

For  LAWRENCE  dead,  his  Jersey  mourns, 

With  tearful  eye  laments  the  day 
VOL.  IT*  N 


142  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

When  all  the  worth  that  men  adorns 
One  fatal  moment  snatch'd  away ! 
On  honor's  bed  his  doom  he  found, 
In  honoVs  cause,  the  deadly  wound. 

To  what  vast  heights  his  mind  aspired, 
Who  knew  him  best  can  best  relate  : — 

A  longer  term  the  cause  required 
That  urged  him  to  an  early  fate  : 
j  But  HE,  whose  fires  illumed  his  breast, 
-  Knew  what  was  right  and  what  was  best. 

His  country  to  her  breast  receives 

His  mangled  form,  and  holds  it  dear  ; 
She  plants  her  marble,  while  she  grieves, 
Where  all,  who  read,  might  drop  a  tear, 
And  say,  while  memory  calls  to  mind 
The  chief,  who  with  our  worthies  shined, 
Here  LAWRENCE  rests,  his  country's  pride, 
On  valor's  decks  who  fought  and  died  ! 


143    } 


ON    THE 

BRITISH  BLOCKADE, 

AND  EXPECTED  ATTACK  ON  NW-YORK 1814. 

Old  Neversink,*  with  bonnet  blue, 
The  present  times  may  surely  rue 
When  told  what  England  means  to  do  : 

Where  from  the  deep  his  head  he  rears 
The  din  of  war  salutes  his  ears, 
That  teazed  him  not  ibj  thirty  years. 

He  eastward  looks  towards  the  maiu 
To  see  a  noisy  naval  train 
Invest  his  bay,  our  fleets  detain. 

WThat  can  be  done  in  such  a  case  ?T- 
His  rugged  heights  the  blast  must  face, 
The  storm  that  menaces  the  place. 

*  The  highlands,  a  little  southward  of  Sandy -Hook  ;  being  a 
tract  of  bold  high  country,  several  thousand  acres  in  ex 
tent  ;  to  the  southward  of  which  there  is  no  land  that  may  be 
termed  mountainous,  on  the  whole  coast  of  the  United  States  to 
Cape  Florida.  The  real  aboriginal  name  of  this  remarkable  pret. 
montory  was  JVavesink,  since  corrupted  into  Neversmk, 


144  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

With  tents  I  see  his  mountain  spread, 
The  soldier  to  the  summit  led, 
And  cannon  planted  on  his  head  : 

From  Shrewsbury  beach  to  Sandy  Hook. 
The  country  has  a  martial  look, 
Ami  quakers  skulk  in  every  nook. — 

What  shall  be  done  in  such  a  case  ?— 

We  ask  again  tvith  woful  face 

To  save  the  trade  and  guard  the  place  ? 

Where  mounted  guns  the  PORTE  secure, 
The  cannon  at  the  embrasure, 
Will  british  fleets  attempt  to  moor  ? 

Perhaps  they  may^— and  make  a  dash, 
To  fill  their  pockets  with  our  cash — 
Their  dealings  now  are  rather  harsh. 

They  menace  to  assail  the  coast 
With  such  a  fleet  and  such  a  host 
As  may  devour  us — boil'd  or  roast, 

Their  feelings  are  alive  and  sore 
For  what  they  got  at  Baltimore, 
When,  with  disgrace,  they  left  the  shore. 

And  will  revenge  it,  if  they  can, 

On  town  and  country,  maid  and  man — 

And  all  they  fear  is  Ftf ETON'S  plan; 


BLOCKADE  OF  NEW-YORK.  14* 

Torpedoes  planted  in  the  deep, 
Whose  blast  may  put  them  all  to  sleep, 
Or  ghostify  them  at  a  sweep. 

Another  scheme,  entirely  new, 

Is  hammering  on  his  anvil  too, 

That  frightens  Christian,  turk,  and  je\v 

A  frigate,f  mounting-  thirty  six  !— 
Who'er  with  her  a  quarrel  picks 
Will  little  get  but  cuffs  and  kicks  : 

% 
A  frigate  meant  to  sail  by  steam  !— = 

How  can  she  else  but  torture  them, 
Be  proof  to  all  their  fire  and  flame. 

A  feast  she  cooks  for  England's  sons 
Of  scalded  heads  and  broken  bones 
Discharged  from  iron  hearted  guns. 

Black  Sam  f  himself,  before  he  died, 

Such  SUPPERS  never  did  provide  ; 

Such  dinners  roasted,  boil'd,  and  fry'd. 

To  make  a  brief  of  all  T  sai&— 
If  to  attack  they  change  blockade 
Their  godships  will  be  well  repaid 

f  The  steam  frigate  FULTON  THE  FIRST  :  Qui  me  percellit  moi  • 
ti  debelur — who  strikes  at  me  to  death  is  doomed  ! 

}A  character  well  known  in  New-York  several  years  since,  re 
markable  for  elegance  and  luxurious  refinements  in  the  art  of 
Cookery, 

N2 


FRBNBAU'S  POEMft, 

With  watei,  scalding  from  the  pot, 
With  melted  lead  and  flaming  shot, 
With  vollies  of—I  know  not  what, 

The  british  lads  will  be  so  treated  : 
Their  wooden  walls  will  be  so  heated, 
Their  ruin  will  be  soon  completed. 

Our  citizens  shall  stare  and  wonder — 

The  JVeversink  repel  their  thunder 

And  COCK.BURN  miss  a  handsome  plunder. 


THEODOSIA 


IN  THE  MORNING  STAR. 

The  fatal  and  perfidious  barque ! 

Built  in  the  eclipse,  and  rfgg'd  with  curses  dark, 

That  sunk  so  low  that  angel  form  of  thine ! 

The  morning  star,  resplendent  in  the  east, 
May  be  our  station,  when  from  life  released. 

Tempestuous  cape  !  how  fatal  proved  the  day 
"When  from  thy  shores  the  faithless  ship  withdrew, 
Yet,  prosperous  gales  impel! 'd  her  on  her  way 
1*81  the  broad  canvas  vanish' d  from  the  view. 


THEODOSIA.  147 

Long  oil  that  height  the  pensive  friends  remain'd 
Till  ocean's  curve  conceal'd  her  from  the  eye, 
And  all  was  hope  that  she  her  port  attain'd 
Ere  ten  more  suns  illumed  the  morning  sky. 

Fond  friends  !  false  hope  !  no  port  beheld  her  conit 
With  flowing  sheet,  to  meet  the  pilot's  sail  : 
JHfo  pilot  met  her  on  the  Atlantic  foam  — 
What  could  the  pilot,  or  his  art,  avail  ? 

Detested  barque  !  nor  art  thou  yet  arrived— 
Nor  wilt  thou  come  !  three  years  are  roll'd  away  ! 
You,  Theodosia  of  her  life  deprived, 
You  sunk  her  from  the  cheerful  beams  of  day  ! 

Where  dost  thou  rest,  with  her  whose  genius  rose 
Above  her  sex  —  for  science  so  renown'  d  — 
But  does  her  spirit  in  the  deep  repose 
Or  find  new  mansions  on  celestial  ground  ? 

That  soars  above  to  heights  unknown  before, 
Where  all  is  joy,  and  life  that  never  ends  ; 
Where  all  is  rapture,  all  admire,  adore  ; 
Immortal  nature,  with  angelic  friends. 


Oh  !  shed  no  more  the  tears  of  s 

The  hymns  of  joy,  the  lofty  verse  prepare— 

Her  briny  doom,  the  ingulphing  wave  forget 

FOR   THEODOSIA    IN    THE    MORNING    STAR. 


148     I 


ON   THE   CAPTURE   OF   THE 

UNITED  STATES  FRIGATE  ESSEX, 
\ 

Of  thirty-two  guns,  David  Porter,  esq.  commander,  in 
the  neutral  port  oj'  Falparisso,  on  the  coast  of  Chili,  in 
South  America,  January,  1B14,  by  the  british  frigate 
Phozbe*  capt.  Hillyer,  of  forty-nine  guns,  and  the 
Cherub  of  thirty -two  guns. 

"  All  the  devils  were  there,  and  hell  was  empty  !v 

From  cruising  near  the  southern  pole 
Where  wild  antarctic  oceans  roll, 
With  a  gallant  crew,  a  manly  soul, 

Heroic  PORTER  carne. 
Then,  weathering  round  the  stormy  cape,*~ 
And  facing  death  in  every  shape, 
Which  ANSOpff  hardly  could  escape, 

(So  says  the  page  oiTauae.) 


*  Cape  Horn  :  bei^n^he  most  southern  extremity  of  the  Island 
of  Terra  del  Fuego,  which  is  separated  from  the.  continent  of  A- 
mericaby  the  streights  of  Magellan,  lat.  56°  S.  Long.  67°  26'  west 

|  See  lord  Anson's  voyage  round  the  world  between  1740  and 
1744,  by  his  chaplain,  the  rev.  Richard  Walter.  The  terrors 
and  dangers  of  a  winter  passage  round  Cape  Horn  into  the  Wes 
tern  Ocean,  are  depicted  in  that  work  by  a  masterly  hand,  wlic1 
was  witness  to  the  scene 


CAPTURE  OF  THE  ESSEX.  149 

He  made  the  high  chilesian  coast, 

The  Andes,  half  in  vapor  lost, 

The  Andes*  topp'd  with  snow  and  frost, 

Eternal  winter's  reign ! 
Then,  to  the  rugged  western  gale, 
He  spread  the  broad  Columbian  sail ; 
And,  Falparisso,  thy  fair  vale 

Received  him,  with  his  men. 

There,  safely  moor'd,  his  colors  fly, 
Columbia's  standard  waved  on  high ; 
The  neutral  port,  his  friends,  were  nigh ; 

So  gallant  PORTER  thought ; 
INTor  deem'd  a  foe  would  heave  in  sight 
Regardless  of  all  neutral  right; 
And  yet,  that  foe  he  soon  must  fight, 

And  fight  them  as  he  ought 

His  Essex  claim 'd  his  fondest  care, 
With  her  he te very  storm  could  dare, 
With  her,  to  meet  the  blast  of  war, 

His  soul  was  still  in  trim  : 
.In  her  he  cruised  the  northern  main, 
In  her  he  pass'dthe  burning  line, 
Tn  her  he  all  things  could  attain, 

If  all  would  act  like  him, 

At  length,  two  hostile  ships  appear, 
An-   tor  the  port  they  boldly  steer— 
The  Phrebe  nr«t.  ;tnd  in  her  ivar 

The  Cherub,  ail  secure. 


150  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

They  loom'd  as  gay  as  for  a  dance, 
Or  ladies  painted  in  romance — 
Do,  mind  how  boldly  they  advance. 

Who  can  their  fire  endure ' 

The  Phoebe  mounted  forty  nine — 

Al!  thought  her  on  some  grand  design — 

Does  she  alone  the  fight  decline  ? 

Say,  captain  Hilly er,  say  ? 
The  Cherub's  guns  were  thirty  two — 
And,  Essex  !  full  a  match  tor  you — 
Yet  "to  her  bold  companion  true, 

She  hugg'd  her  close,  that  day. 

Ye  powers,  that  rule  the  southern  pole  ! 
Are  these  the  men  of  english  soul  ? 
Do  these,  indeed,  the  waves  control  ? 

Are  these  the  ocean's  lords  ? 
Though  challenged  singly  to  the  fight 
(As  Porter,  Hillyer,  did  invite) 
These  men  of  spunk,  these  men  of  might, 

Refused  to  measure  swords ! 

What,  fight  alone  !  bold  Hillyer  said — 
I  will  not  fight  without  my  AID — 
The  Cherub  is  for  war  array 'd, 

And  she  must  do  her  share ! 
Now  PORTER  saw  their  dastard  plan — 
To  fight  them  both  was  surely  vain ; 
We  should  ha\     r.i.>iight  a  man  insane 

That  would  so  madly  dare. 


GAPTURE  OF  THE  ESSEX.  151 

Then,  hands  on  deck  !  the  anchors  weigh  ! 
— And  for  the  sea  he  left  the  bay, 
A  running  fight  to  have  that  day, 

And  thus  escape  his  foes. 
But  oh  ! — distressing  to  relate — 
As  round  a  point  of  land  he  beat 
A  squall  from  hell  the  ship  beset, 

And  her  rnaintopmast  goes  ! 

Unable  to  attain  that  end, 

He  turns  toward  the  neutral  friend, 

And  hoped  protection  they  might  lend, 

But  no  protection  found. 
In  this  distress,  the  foe  advanced — 
With  such  an  eye  at  Essex  glanced  ! 
And  such  a  fire  of  death  commenced 

As  dealt  destruction  round ! 

With  every  shot  they  raked  the  deck, 
Till  mingled  ruin  seized  the  wreck  : 
No  valor  could  the  ardor  check 

Of  England's  martial  tars  ! 
One  hundred  men  the  E^x  lost : 
But  Phoebe  found,  and  to  her  cost, 
That  PORTER  made  them^r.any  a  ghost 

To  serve  in  Satan's  wars. 

Oh,  clouded  scene  ! — yet  must  I  tell 
Columbia's  flag,  indignant,  fell- 
To  Essex,  now,  we  bid  farewell ; 

$he  wears  the  eugrish  flag  ! 


152  FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

But  YANKEES  she  has  none  on  board 
To  point  the  gun  or  wield  the  sword ; 
Aad  though  commanded  by  a  lord 

They'll  have  no  cause  to  brag. 


STANZAS 

On  robbing  a  bee  hive  in  a  warm  day  in  the  month  of 
Marck  1814. 


[The  subsequent  stanzas  were  written  by  a  young  lady  of  eigh 
teen,  and  are  inserted  in  this  work  at  her  particular  request.} 


Tell  nae,  bees,  why.  did  you  roam 
And  no  one  leave,  to  guard  your  home, 

To.  tell,  you  were  alive  ? 
Some  wicked  demon  led  me  hence, 
Through  the  snow  and  o'er  the  fence 

To  rob  your  lonely  hive  ! 
I  rattled  at  your  door  so  loud; 
But  none  appear'd  of  your  vast  crowd, 

To  stay  my  hasty  hand  : 


ROBBING  A  BEE  HIVE.  153 

Your  little  waxen  cups  so  sweet  ! — 
The  more  delicious  was  the  treat, 
The  more  did  I  demand. 

I  pillaged  all  your  little  store, 

And  then  besieged  your  cell  for  more  ; 

And  what  have  I  to  tell ! 
I  met  your  busy  fluttering  band — 
An  empty  hive,  and  frozen  land — 

You  now  must  leave  your  cell  ! 

Ah  no  !  your  honey  I  restore ; 
And  favors  I  will  grant  you  more  ,- 

Then,  stay  with  me,  and  live. 
Of  your  numerous  insect  host 
The  honey-bees  I  prize  the  most, 

Such  nectar  sweets  they  give  I 

I'll  plant  gay  roses  round  your  seat 
To  screen  you  from  the  summer's  heat, 

Or  sip  them,  at  your  will. 
•Sweet  Flora  will  resume  her  reign, 
Her  f  .vors  you  may  court  again, 

And  be  most  happy  still ! 

HELENA. 


VOL,   II.  O 


154     ) 


. 

ON    THE 


LOSS  OF  THE  PRIVATEER   BRIGANTINE 
GENERAL  ARMSTRONG, 

Captain  Samuel  C.  Reid,  of  New-  For  A:,  which  sailec 
from  Sandy  Hook,  on  a  cru:se,  the  ninth  <f  Sept'-mf^er^ 
1814,  and  on  the  &}th  came  to  anchor  in  the  road  oj 
Fayal,  one  of  the  Azores,  or  Western  Isiands,  a  i.eu- 
tralport  belonging  to  the  crown  of  Portugal.  She  an' 
chored  in  that  port  for  the  furpnse  of  procuring  a  sup 
ply  of  fresh  water  when  she  was  attacked  by  the  br;tish 
ship  ofnarPLniagenct,  of  1^  guns,  capt.  Lloyd;  the 
Rota  frigate  of  36  guns,  and  the  armed  National  brig 
Carnation,  of  18  guns,  and  many  barges  ff  considera 
ble  force,  all  of  which  she  repulsed,  with,  a-i  immense 
slaughter,  and  was  then  scuttled  and  sunk  iy  crder  oj 
Captain  Reid,  to  prevent  her  falling  into  the  hands  of 
the  enemy. 

The  Armstrong  arrived  in  the  port  of  Fayal, 
And  her  actions  of  valor  we  mean  to  recall ; 
Brave  Reid,  her  commander,  his  valorous  crew. 
The  heroes  that  aided,  his  officers,  too. 

Shall  it  tall  to  their  lot 

To  be  basely  forgot  ? 

O  no  !  while  a  bard  has  a  pen  to  command    i 
Their  lame  shall  resound  through  amenean  land. 


PRIVATEER  GENERAL  ARMSTRONG.    155 

In  the  road  of  Fayal,  when  their  anchors  were  cast, 
The  british  were  watching  to  give  them  a  blast ; 
Not  far  from  the  port,  for  destruction  sharp  set, 
Lay  the  Rota,  Carnation,  and  Plantagenet  r 

With  a  ship  of  the  line 

Did  a  frigate  combine, 

And  a  brig  of  great  force,  with  her  boats  in  the  rear; 
To  capture  or  burn  one  New- York  privateer  ! 

Four  boats  from  the  brig  were  dispatch'd  in  great  haste, 
And  onward  they  came,  of  the  Armstrong  to  taste  ; 
To  taste  of  her  powder,  to  taste  of  her  ball, 
To  taste  of  the  death  she  must  hurl  on  them  all ! — 

They  came  in  great  speed, 

And  with  courage,  indeed, 

Well  mann'd  and  well  arm'd — so  they  got  along  side, 
Destruction  their  motto,  damnation  their  guide. 

Now  the  Armstrong,  with  vengeance,  had  open'dher 

fire, 

And  gave  them  as  much  as  they  well  could  desire  ; 
A  score  of  them  fell — full  twenty  fell  dead — 
Then  quarters !  they  cried,  and  disgracefully  fled  : — 

To  their  ships  they  returned 
,          Half  shatter'd  and  burn'd — 
Not  quite  in  good  humor,  perhaps  in  a  fret, 
And  waited  new  orders  from  Plantagenet. 

Then  the  Armstrong  hauPd  in,  close  abreast  of  the 

beach, 

So  near,  that  a  pistol  the  castle  could  reach  ; 
And  there  she  awaited  the  rest  of  their  plan, 
And  there  they  determined  to  die,  to  a  man, 


1£6  FREIVEAU'S  POFMS. 

Ere  the  lords  of  the  waves 

With  their  sorrowful  slaves, 
The  tyrants,  who  claim  the  command  of  the  main, 
With  strength,  though  superior,  their  purpose  should 
gain. 

And  now  the  full  moon  had  ascended  the  sky, 
Reid  saw  by  her  light  that  the  british  were  nigh  : 
The  bell  of  Fayal  told  the  hour — it  was  nine — 
When  the  foe  was  observed  to  advance  in  a  line  ; 
They  manoeuvred  a  while 
With  their  brig,  in  great  style, 

Till  midnight  approach' d  when  they  made  their  at 
tack, 
Twelve  boats,  full  of  men,  and  the  brig  at  their  back  ! 

They  advanced  to  the  conflict  as  near  as  they  chose, 
When  the  Armstrong  her  cannon  discharged  on  her 

foes — 

The  town  of  Fayal  stood  aghast  in  amaze 
The  Armstrong  appeared  like  all  hell  in  a  blaze  ! 
At  the  blast  of  Long  Tom 
The  foe  was  struck  dumb  : 
O  lord  !  are  the  sons  of  old  England  alarm'd — 
With  m«sic  like  this  they  wereformcrly  charm'd ! 

I 

Huzza  for  old  England !  three  cheers,  and  a  damn  ! 
And  up  to  the  conflict  they  manfully  came  ; 
On  the  bows  and  the  quarters  they   grappled  a  hold, 
And  board  !  was  the  word  in  those  barges  so  bold  ; 
But  board  they  could  not — to  no  devil  she  strikes, 
So  the   Armstrong  repell'd  them   with    pistols  and 

pikes— 


PRIVATEER  GENERAL  ARMSTRONG.   157 

From  her  musquetry  fire 

They  by  dozens  expire  ! 

And  soon  was  the  work  of  destruction  complete, 
And  soon  was  determined  their  total  defeat — ! 

Three  hundred  brave  fellows  were  wounded  and  kill'd, 
Their  boats  and  their  barges  with  slaughter  were  filPd  ; 
With  shame  they  retreated,  the  few  that  remained, 
To  tell  the  event  of  the  battle — not  gain'd  ; 

Their  commander  in  chief 

Was  astounded  with  grief! — 

Dont  grieve,  my  good  fellows — he  hail'd  them — I  beg 
I  too  have  my  wounds — "  an  ox  trod  on  my  leg  !" 

But  to  save  the  stout  Armstrong — even  Reid  could 

not  do — 

A  ship  of  the  line  with  a  frigate  in  tow — ! 
A  brig  of  their  navy  accoutred  for  war — ! 
All  this  was  to  much  for  e'en  yankees  to  dare  : 
So  he  scuttled  his  barque — 
Nor  need  we  remark 

That  she  sunk  on  the  sands  by  the  beach  of  Fayai 
With  her  colors  all  flyiug— no  colors  could  fall ! 

"  t 

Of  neutrals  what  nonsense  some  tell  us  each  day  ! 
Exists  there  a  neutral  where  Britain  has  sway  ? 
The  rights  of  a  neutral ! — away  with  such  stuff— 
What  neutral  remains  that  can  England  rebuff  ?-r- 

To  be  safe  from  disgrace 

The  deep  seas  are  our  place  : 
The  (lag  of  no  neutral  our  flag  can  defend, 
By  ourselves  we  must  fight,  on  ourselves  mast  depend. 
O  2 


158  FRFNEAU'S  POEMS. 

Now  in  bumpers  of  reason,  success  to  brave  Reid  < 
.Himself  and  his  heroes  are  heroes  indeed  ! — 
In  conquests,  like  this,  can  an  englishman  glory, 
One  traitor  among  us,  one  Halifax  tory  ? 
If  they  can — let  them  brag — 
Here's  success  to  our  flag ! 
May  it  ever  be  ready,  the  bntons  to  maul, 
As  the  Armstrong  behaved  in  the  road  of  FAYAL— 


PYTHONA  :* 

OR  THE  PROPHETESS  OF  EN-DOR. 

PERSONS : 

KING    SAUL — THE    GHOST    OP  SAMUEL — THE    PROPHETESS 

— OFFICERS    AND    ATTENDANTS. 
I 

SAUL. 

My  head  is  sick,  my  heart  is  sad  ! — 
What  magic  shall  relieve  my  care  ? 

Hence,  from  my  sight,  ye  omens  bad, 

Crowns  have  their  thorns,  and  mine  its  share. 

*-•  In  the  french  translation  of  the  bible  this  sorceress  is  de 
nominated  Python,  a  common  name  to  all  in  the  ages  of  supersti 
tion,  who  pretended  to  foretell  future  events. — "  Et  Saul  dit  a 
ses  Servitrmrs,  Cherchez  raoi  tme  femme  qui  ait  un  esprit  de  Py 
thon,  et  Je  m'en  irai  vers  elle,  et  mVnquerrai  par  die  Ses 
Se  viieun  ui  dr-eni .  Voila,  il  y  a  une  fenitne  en  Hendpr,  qui  a  un 
esprit  de  Python,  ^-c. 


THE  PROPHETESS  OF  EN-DOR. 

I  see  the  proud  philistine  band  ! — 

Say,  can  my  strength  with  these  contend  •? 

On  Gilboa's  height  I  take  my  stand, 
Too  weak  to  conquer  or  defend. 

A  heart  dismay 'd,  faint  heart,  is  mine.! 

What  shall  I  do  to  eave  my  throne  ? 
In  vain  I  seek  the  power  divine, 

He  hears  me  not,  I'm  left  alone  ! 

Then  must  I  sleep  among  the  dead  ? 

And  is  my  final  refuge  there  ? — 
Seize  on  my  crown,  ye  lightnings  red  ! 

And  hurl  me  from  this  stage  of  care. 

Advance,  ye  few,  who  guard  your  king, 
Attend  my  words,  and  mark  me  well  ; 

Go,  to  my  tent  some  sorceress  bring, 
One  powerful  with  the  magic  spell  : 

From  such — from  her,  I'll  know  my  doom, 
Since  magic  does  from  heaven  descend  ; 

The  secrets  of  the  time  to  come 
From  her  I'll  learn,  to  her  attend. 

OFFICER. 

To  En-dor's  vale  shall  we  repair  ? — 
A  maid  of  dreams  inhabits  there. — 
SHE  remains,  and  only  she  ! — 
All  the  rest  were  slain  by  THEE  ! — 
S!M  remains,  to  tell  your  doom, 
Secrets  of  the  days  to  come ; 


FUENEAU'S  POEMS. 

There  she  dwells  amidst  the  shade, 
In  her  mourning  meeds  array  'd. 
With  powers  of  incantation  strong, 
31ystic  words  and  magic  song : 

Since  your  mandate  bade  them  fall 
She,  I  say,  survives  of  all — 
There  she  sits  in  gloomy  shades, 
There  her  waning  visage  fades  : 

But,  so  potent  are  her  charms, 
Clouds  and  tempests  she  disarms; 
Ghosts  arise  at  her  command, 
Oceans  swell  above  the  land  ; 
To  their  silent  mansions  led. 
She  can  wake  the  sleeping  dead  ;— 
In  her  course,  at  night  or  noon, 
She  arrests  the  wandering  moon. 
Holds  her  empire,  wide  and  far, 
Can  displace  the  polar  star  ; 
She  can  mix  the  dose  of  love, 
Make  all  union  fatal  prove, 
Make  the  fondest  heart  untrue — 
Nothing  that  she  cannot  do  ! 

SAUL, 


To  her  groves  this  hour  we  go ! 
lJut  king  Saul  she  shall  not  know. — 

I'll  change  my  aspect,  change  my  dress, 
Till  at  myself  she  shall  not  guess— 


THE  PROPHETESS  OF  EN-DOR.         161 

When  the  midnight  shades  advance, 
Hours  before  the  eastern  glance, 
Lead  me  on  to  En-dor's  vales 
Where  the  fair  enchantress  dwells — 
Where  she  deals  her  potions  strong 
Where  she  hums  her  mystic  song, 
Where  she  wakevS  the  slumbering  dead 
In  their  silent  mansions  laid, 
To  reveal  the  words  of  fate, 
Conjured  from  their  silent  state  ! 
Where  with  her  mysterious  charms, 
Clouds  and  tempests  she  disarms, 
Where  she  chills  with  poisons  strong, 
Mystic  words  and  magic  son* — 
Two,  attend  me  on  the  road 
Till  we  reach  her  dread  abode ! 


SCENE,    AT    THE   GROVE   OF   THE  PROPHETESS. 


SAUL. 

Fair  enchantress  of  the  grove  1 
Favorite  of  the  powers  above — 
Favorite  of  the  powers  below, 
Somewhat  from  you  I  would  know 

Can  you,  by  your  awful  spell. 
Known  in  heaven  and  felt  in  hell » 
Can  you  from  the  silent  dead 
Sleeping  in  his  earthy  bed. 


162  PRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

Will  you  bring  in  sej/'the  same, 
Bring  the  man  that  I  will  name  ? 

PROPHETESS. 

Stranger  !  at  the  midnight  hour 
"Why  approach  my  gloomy  bower  ? 
Know  you  not  the  tale  of  wo  ? — 
For  such  an  art  as  I  do  know 
By  the  king's  severe  command, 
Saul,  the  monarch  of  our  land, 
How  he  slew,  or  bade  depart 
All  who  learn'd  the  magic  art ; 
How  they  perish'd,  how  they  fell 
Who  possessed  the  magic  spell :— - 
For  my  life  a  snare  you  lay, 
Far  go  from  me,  far  away  ! 
Cause  me  not,  I  pray,  to  die, 
Leave  me  and  my  sorcery ; 
Leave  me  to  my  gloomy  trees, 
Fathom  not  the  heaven's  decrees-— 
Since  the  king  has  done  us  wrong 
I  restrain  my  mystic  song — 
Now,  I  bid  you,  now  farewell ; 
Dangerous  is  the  magic  spell. 

SAUL. 

Fear  me  not,  prophetic  maid  \ 
Lend  me  but  your  dreary  aid, 
And  I  swear  by  him  above 
Nothing  shall  pernicious  prove— 


THE  PROPHETESS  OF  EN-DOR, 

Safe,  secure  from  every  harm, 
If 'you  will  but  lend  your  charm, 

PROPHETESS. 

From  the  mansions  in  the  grave 
That  his  weeping  kindred  gave, 
Yo?mg  in  years,  or  old  in  days, 
Tell  me  whom  that  I  shall  raise. 

SAUL. 

Raise  me  Samuel  from  the  tomb ! 
Bid — enchantress, — Samuel  come  : 
Samuel's  ghost  C  wish  to  see, 

Samuel's  shade  will  talk  with  me* 

* 

PROPHETESS. 

Shade  of  Samuel !  leave  the  dead  ! 
Be  once  more  in  flesh  array'd ! 
If  of  slumbers  e'er  so  fond, 
Rise  !  when  I  display  my  wand  ! 
— Samuel  comes  !  in  grave  attire  : 
See  him,  stranger,  and  admire  ! — 

Stranger !  stranger,  did  I  say  ? 
Thou  art  Saul,  whom  I  obey  : 
Why  hast  thou  deceived  me  so  ? 
Thou  art  Saul — and  well  I  know  I— 
Now  I  find  my  doom  is  sure, 
Tortures  I  must  now  endure  ! 


164  FRENEAU'S  POEMS, 

Why,  ray  monarch,  did  you  wrong 
The  sisters  of  mysterious  song — 
The  brethren  of  the  magic  spell  ?— 

SAUL. 

Fear  me  not — for  all  is  well — 
Tell  me,  sybil,  what  you  saw — 
What  impress'd  you  with  such  awe. 
When  you  raised  your  wand  on  high, 
When  some  image  met  your  eye  ? 

PROPHETESS. 

From  earth  I  saw  a  god  ascend — 
Angels  shield  !  and  heaven  defend  1 

SAUL. 

Tell  me  whose  the  form  he  wears  ? 
Like  to  whom  this  god  appears  ? 

PROPHETESS. 

I  see  an  ancient  sage  arise 
In  the  garb  of  him  who  dies : 
A  mantle  o'er  his  limbs  is  spread, 
The  winding  sheet  that  wraps  the  dead ! 

SAUL. 

That  god  yon  saw  was  him  restored, 
The  ancient  prophet,  long  adored. 


THE  PROPHETESS  OF  EN-DOR.         165 

That  Samuel,  wrapt  in  funeral  shroud, 
Samuel,  to  whom  the  nations  bow'd— 
I  worship  at  his  honor'd  shrine, 
To  thee  I  bend,  O  seer  divine  ! 


SAMUEL. 


From  caves  of  death  and  sleep  profound, 
Why  hast  thou  calPd  me,  king  reuown'd ! 
I  safely  slept  in  soft  repose, 
Why  disturb  me  ? — Saul,  disclose. 


SAUL. 


My  head  is  sick,  my  heart  is  sad  ; 
Misfortune  almost  makes  me  mad — 
Oppressed  am  I  with  grief  and  care, 
The  philistines  have  march'd  to  war : 
That  God,  whom  once  I  found  a  friend 
No  longer  will  my  steps  attend  ; 
No  more  he  answers  to  my  prayer, 
But  all  is  darkness  and  despair  : 
No  more  he  comes  in  midnight  dreams, 
No  prophet,  now,  a  prophet  seems — 
And  therefore  at  this  gloomy  hour 
I  call  you  by  the  magic  power . 
Where  shall  I  march,  or  what  pursue  ; 
Tell  me  Samuel,  what  to  do  \ 


166  FRENEAU'S  POEMS, 

SAMUEL. 

Why  ask  of  me  what  fates  attend  ? 
If  heaven  appears  no  more  your  friend, 
»$eek  not  from  me  the  approaching  doom, 
The  warfare  of  the  times  to  come. 
While  blood  yet  bounded  from  my  heart— 
And  nature  here  perform'^  her  part, 
Just  as  I  said,  your  royal  throne, 
Your  kingdom  is  no  more  your  own  ! 
It  leaves  you  in  this  sad  distress 
And  goes  to  one  whom  you  oppress — 
It  goes  to  David — mark  me  well — 
Because  you  spared  the  sons  of  hell — 
The  wrath  of  heaven  you  wish'd  to  check 
In  vengeance  upon  Amalek  : 
For  this,  your  woes  arrive  at  last, 
For  this,  your  lot  is  fatal  cast — 
The  philistines  their  ranks  display, 
You  and  your  army  die  this  day  ! 
To-morrow  shalt  thou  be  with  me— 
O  king  !  such  is  your  destiny. 
Your  army  shall  be  crush'd  and  slain, 
And  torn  by  vultures  from  the  plain — 
And  all  your  host  that  crowds  the  field. 
Again  I  say,  shall  fall  or  yield." 

Astonish'd  at  the  words  he  spoke 
The  monarch  shudder'd  at  his  look  ! 
He  trembled  when  the  spectre  frown'd 
He  fell,  half  frantic,  to  the  ground  ; 
And  scarcely  life  his  pulse  retain 'd, 
And  scarcely  blood  in  Saul  remained. 


THE  PROPHETESS  OF  EN-DOR.         167 
PROPHETESS. 


Arise,  my  lord,  accept  my  aid  ; 
I  placed  my  trust  in  all  you  said  : 
My  life  I  trusted  in  your  hands  ; 
I  well  obey'd  your  whole  commands; 
Now  hear  me  for  this  time,  the  last ! 
^Why  to  the  dust  thus  lowly  cast ! — 
Arise  !  and  act  in  style  of  MAN — 
I  have  a  kettle  and  a  pan — 
I  have  some  bread — then  freely  eat — '" 

Saul  thought  her  bread  a  scanty  treat ; 
And  said,  "  dear  madam,  no,  no,  no, 
Your  bread  alone  is  but  so,  so." — 

Then  from  the  ground  the  monarch  rose, 
(She  had  no  chairs,  we  may  suppose) 
And  sate  him  down  upon  her  bed  ; 
(Even  monarchs  then  were  rudely  bred.) 

'*  Why,  madam,  have  yon  nothing;  more 
Than  mere  dry-bread  ? — a  scanty  store ! 
Then  let  us  go,  lament  and  sigh, 
And  hungry  fight  and  hungry  die." — 

Nay,  said  the  witch,  I  have  a  calf, 
So  fat,  that  it  would  make  you  laugh- 
Then  rising  quick,  she  seized  her  knife 
Androbb'd  poor  Darby  of  his  life. 


FRENEAITS  POEMS. 

She  knew  her  lord  and  king  was  nigh, 
And  so  she  made  a  dutchraan's  pye  ; 
Her  table  gjoth  she  did  display, — 
Saul  eat  his  fill — and  march'd  away.. 


THE   FROST  OF  MISFORTUNE. 

Written  on  'he  occasion  of  a  girl  of  about  ten  years  of  age 
being  rozen  £9  death  in  the  streets  of  a  populous  city  in 
a  severe  January. 


-Take  physic,  pomp  ! — 


Expose  thyself  to  feel  what  wretches  feel  : 
That  tho  i  may'st  shake  the  superflux  to  them, 
And  show  the  heavens  more  just  ! " 

SHAKSPEARE. 

61  Why  came  I  to  this  frozen  world  ?" — she  said — 
And  sate  her  down  upon  the  bench  forlorn — 

"  My  father  gone,  Columbia's  wars  to  aid ; 
M.v  mother,  sisters,  famish'd— rview'd  with  scorn. 

"  O  .A  ealth,  O  fortune  !  are  ye  made  of  stone, 
To  ;eave  me  thus,  deserted  and  distrest ! — 

Thus  left,  all  wretched,  feeble,  and  alone — 
And  didst  thou,  nature,  all  things  for  the  best  ? — 

"  O  sleep,  thou  friendly  power,  thou  vShade  of  death, 
Come  to  my  aid,  and  shield  me  from  the  blast : 

To  thee  I  leave  my  last,  departing  breath. 

To  this  world's  mercy,  or  its  vengeance,  cast;. 


FROST  OP  MELANCHOLY.  168 

*"'  What  have  I  done  to  merit  such  a  fate  ? — 
Approach,  ye  few,  not  arm'd  with  hearts  of  brass, 

$ aatch  me,  congealing, — but  ye  come  too  late, 
1  to  some  happier  world,  indignant,  pass.5' 


ON  GENERAL  MIRANDA'S 
EXPEDITION 


AWARDS  THE   CARACCAS,   SPANISH   PROVINCES 

IN  SOUTH   AMERICA,    FEBRUARY 

—1805.— 

To  execute  a  vast  design, 

The  soul,  Miranda,  was  not  thine  2 

With  you  the  fates  did  not  com  bine 

To  make  an  empire  free. 
We  saw  you  spread  Leander's  sail, 
We  saw  the  adverse  winds  prevail, 
Sad  omen  that  the  cause  would  fail 

That  led  you  to  the  sea, 
P  2 


FRENEAU'S  POEiMS. 

By  feeble  winds  the  sail  was  fill'd, 
By  ieebler  hands  the  helm  was  held — 
We  saw  you  from  the  port  repell'd* 

You  might  have  made  your  own, 
We  saw  you  leave  a  manly  crew 
To  the  base  Spaniard,  to  imbrue 
His  hands  in  blood — and  not  a  few 

Were  on  his  mercy  thrown  : 

In  dungeons  vile  they  pass'd  the  day, 
Far  from,  their  country,  far  away 
From  pitying  friends,  from  liberty  ! 

That  years  could  scarce  retrieve  ! 
Twas  thus  Miranda  play'd  his  game ; 
But  who  with  him  should  share  the  blame  ? 
Perhaps  if  we  the  men  did  name. 

CREDULITY  would  not  believe  ! 


*  Porto  Gavallo,  or  Cabello,  a  sea  port  town  of  Terra  Firms, 
|n  South  America,  on  the  coast  of  the  Caraccas,  and  the  Caribbean 
Sea ;  said  to  have  been  the  first  object  of  Miranda's  expedition. 


TO  ISMENIA. 


While  forests  bend  and  tempests  blow, 
From  heaven  descends  the  drifting  snow, 

So  cold,  and  yet  so  pure  : 
Why  came  you  to  this  frozen  waste, 
In  winter's  mantle  thus  embraced — ? 

And  do  you  feel  secure  ? 

His  robe  of  white  invests  the  plains, 
A  dullness  through  all  nature  reigns, 

Her  winding  sheet  she  wears  ! 
Upon  the  ground  your  eyes  are  cast, 
Alarm'd,  you  hear  the  howling  blast, 

A  slave  to  hopes  and  fears* 

Be  not  dismay 'd — the  hearth  shall  blaze ; 
Observe,  once  more,  the  lengthening  days ; 

The  friendly  faggot  burns — 
The  sun  has  reach'd  dquarius?  sign, 
The  sun  advances  to  the  line, 

The  prince  of  day  returns ! 

To  guard  you  from  fell  winter's  stroke, 
From  yonder  wood  I  bring  the  oak, 
I  bring  the  season'd  pine : 


FRENEAU'S  POEMS. 

• 

By  friendship  and  affection  led 

To  deck  your  glass  the  wilds  I  .tread  j 

The  ITY,  with  its  berries  red, 

Shall  both  be  thine  : 

The  bremter,  green  amidst  the  snow, 
The  laurels,  that  too  near  me  grow, 
Shall  cheer  you  through  this  scene  of  wo, 

These  bitter  gales, 

That  sweep  the  land,  that  rend  the  main, 
That  cloud  the  heavens  with  snow  or  rain — 
Repine  not  at  their  blasting  train, 

It  nought  avails ! 

And  be  not  grieved— for  all  we  find 
Comes  from  one  all-directing  mind — 
In  all  things  be  to  HIM  resigned 

The  fi^reat  supreme ! 
He  tempers  to  the  shivering  lamb 
The  keenest  blasts  from  heaven  that  came* 
That  power  sublime,  the  great  I  AM, 

The  arch-angel's  theme ! 

In  winter's  frown,  or  Flora's  smile, 
He  is  your  guardian,  all  the  while ; 
He  walks  witk  you  the  weary  mile, 
And  smooths  the  road : 
He  guards  you  till  at  last  you  come 
To  nature's  verge,  our  final  doom, 
The  native  dust,  the  silent  tomb, 

OUR    BEST    ABODE  J 


NORTHERN  MARCH 


IFRITTEN  PREVIOUSLY  TO  THE  BATTLES  OF  «HIPPEWA 

AND  BRIDGEVVATER. 


Come,  to  the  battle  let  us  go, 
Hurl  destruction  on  the  foe  ; 
Who  commands  us,  well  w«  know, 

Tis  the  gallant  general  BROWI*. 
Haste  away  from  fiefa  or  town, 
Pull  the  hostile  standard  down — 
If  but  led  by  general  Brown 

What  will  be  the  event,  we  know. 

If  but  led  against  that  foe, 

Soon  their  doom  the  english  know, 

Soon  their  haughtiest  blood  shall  flow, 

When  opposed  to  general  Brown. 
Haste  away  from  town  and  farm  : 
If  we  meet  them,  where's  the  harm  ? 
English  power  has  lost  its  charm, 

England's  fanae  is  tumbling  doivn. 


174  FRENEATJ'S  POEMS. 

Long  she  ruled  the  northern  waste, 
Freedom  is  by  her  debased, 
Freedom  is  not  to  her  taste ; 

All  the  world  must  wear  her  chain  ! ! '. 
"  Not  a  keel  shall  plough  the  wave, 
IVot  a  sail,  without  her  leave  ; 
Not  a  fleet,  the  nations  have, 

Sate  from  her,  shall  stem  the  main ! !  ! 

Let  this  day's  heroic  deeds 

Let  the  generous  breast  that  bleeds, 

Let  our  chief  who  bravely  leads 

Tell  them  that  their  reign  is  done  : 
Soon  t»  quit  Columbia's  shore, 
Is  their  doom — we  say  no  more  ; 
flfeiieral  Brown,  in  the  cannon's  roar 

Tells  them  hew  the  field  is  won  ! 


END  OP  FRENEAF'S  POEMS. 


THE  COURTEOUS  KNIGHT, 

OR, 

THE  FLYING  GALLANT. 

[From  the  Baltimore  Whig.] 

The  public  will  hear  with  astonishment,  that  a  british  knight, 
»of  high  reputation,  should  have  declined  the  advances  of  an  amer- 
Scan  lady,  who  has  already  made  some  noise  in  the  world,  and  is 
Hikely  soon  to  make  more.  After  haring  notoriously  boasted  of 
liis  willingness,  and  even  of  his  anxiety,  to  meet  the  lady,  as  well 
tas  of  his  prowess  in  such  encounters,  it  is  impossible  to  find  for  his 
graceless  backsliding  a  sufficient  apology ;  and  all  true-hearted 
knaidens  ought,  without  the  least  hesitation,  to  set  him  down  for 
a  faithless  perjured  lover. 

For  a  nautical  knight,  a  lady — heigho  ! 

Felt  her  heart  and  her  heart-strings  to  ache  ; 
To  vi«;w  his  dear  person  she  look'd  to  and  fro, 
The  name  of  the  knight  was  sir  James  Lucas  Yeo — 

Ami  the  Mi/-— twas  she  of  the  lake. 

"  My  good,  sweet  sir  James,"  cried  the  lady  so  fair, 

44  Since  my  passion  I  cannot  control. 
When  you  see  my  white  drapery  floating  in  air, 
O  hither,  and  swiftly,  I  pri'thee,  repair, 

And  indulge  the  first  wish  of  my  .soul." 

The  knight  heard,  afar,  of  the  lady's  desire, 
\  And  sprightly,  and  gay,  made  reply  : 
*\  As  your  heart,  lovely  maid,  doth  my  person  require 
lassure  you  mine  burns  with  like  amorous  fire  ; 
ti>  your  loved  presence  I'll  fly." 


176 


nk 


E  FLYING  GALLANT. 


From  Ontafiio 

Expectin 

$he  dreamt  not  that  h 
And  from  a 


io's  margin  the  lady  set  sail, 
the  knight  on  that  sea : 

ic  in  his  promise  would  fail, 
fair  lady,  unmanlike  turn-tail  ; 
Yet  he  taifried  ! — what  could  the  cause  be  ? 


Impatient  to  see  him,  no  longer  she'd  stay  ; 

Resolved  o'er  the  whole  lake  to  roam  ; 
"  Oh  !  have  you  not  heard  of  my  stout  knight,  I  pray  ?' *' 
She  plaintively  ask'd  all  who  came  in  her  way  : 

"  Do  you  think  he's  to  Kingston  gone  home  ?" 

At  length  she;  espy'd  him  :-what  should  sir  James  do  ? 

He  fidgets  i,  ran,  and  he  tack'd  in  and  out : 
He  fear'd  to  embrace  her  :  he  promised  to  woo  : 
ShehaiPdhiin,    "sir James,  charming-fellow,  heava 
too  ! 

"  Why  do  you  my  tenderness  flout  ?" 

!  V 

He  fled  like  ja  truant ;  the  lady,  in  vain, 

Her  oglina;s  and  glances  employ'd  : 
She  aim'd  at)  his  heart,  and  she  aim'd  at  his  bi'ain  ; 
And  she  vowl'd  from  pursuing  she  ne'er  would  refrain: 

The  knight  was  most  sadly  annoy 'd. 

At  length,  tij-om  love's  fervor  the  recreant  got  clear, 

And  may  have,  for  a  season,  some  rest : 
But  if  this  fair  lady  he  ever  comes  near, 
For  breaking;  his  promise  he'll  pay  very  deai*  ; 
The  price  valiant  Ctewttr?/  knows  best. 


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